Poem By Grant Howard Bunce
Man judges man, tells him his poem is not very good.
Says it disappoints him, look at me I'm really good!
cheap advertising of his own work, check out my poem,
He doesn't know i only have 10 minutes a day to write a poem.
i only just started out, already being crushed,
but i have self belief, i admit they maybe rushed.
convinced of his own presence on a faceless forum,
keyboard worrier attacks the rookie and subjects him to boredom.
King of statistics riding high on top of of his own forum number,
to his neighbours a boring man, who's speech makes them slumber.