Critics Poem by Joeline Rayment

Twas a moment afore posting
mine verbose, complicated prose
wherein each alphabetical symbol
was held great analytical thought
with task appointed subconsciously
to hold up above the masses
of mine
shaky delusion filled self image
the perfect ideology of expression
still concurrent with past thinking
yet precursor greater still of modernism,
a burden for which no higher weight
could match such untold, countless,
measureless judgements
of yours

Twas a moment
wherein I thought
stuff you