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(One poem talking smack about another poem)
It lacks a certain something, Its stanzas are too long, It rhymes its lines, but oftentimes, The words just come out wrong. It�s quite a contradiction, Though it�s fiction, granted that, A written self-infliction, That has all but fallen flat. Its themes are rather faulty, Its rhythm can�t be helped, And when I read it to my dog, In pain, the creature yelped. So take this as a warning, Lest ye buy into this lie, This poem�s rather corny, Twill not stand the test of time. |
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