Talent Hill Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

Of three make four and then comes five
perhaps this place will come alive!
The trouble with most poets is
they cannot re-create the fizz
the inner poet makes inside.
For them, dull critics are their guide,
they talk of free verse and of breaks
of music, meter, what it takes
to make a poem, typed and all
that in the poet's world stands tall.

Conveniently they do forget
that simple folks they have not met
will be the judge (and they love rhyme)
yet to succeed one needs to climb
the hurdle called the talent hill,
without it poets never will
amount to much no matter Sir.
I ask of you, do you concur?