The Eyes Of Critics Poem by Johnny Psalm

A true legend is a target to seasonal blame and disgrace,
Who suffered hold on crevices, meteor on earth.
Fame is like a knotted garment though,
In flimsy words I'll manage to lose the knot
Through the pen that pours ink on this leaf
And to bring you beneath the classics's horizon.

Surely, tongues will unperched to steal for fame.
Though I'm not a nihilist, nor a reformer of ink and leaves
But to save my head from critic platters and live.
In our jungle I live among humble fellows,
And throughout the territory plants and animals
Manifest in their talents even in worst weather.

It is best to use ones talent during unfair
Stars and little resources to reach the height ends.
Thus I shall use my talent unburied to fullest.
I thought I was a rose mindless of critics' buzz,
But then like a bull critics hovers like flies, and
Each time I tail-chase them, I hear them buzz about me.