The Lazy Poor Poet [limerick]
There once was a lazy poor poet,
But indignant she didn't quiet know it.
Just one bad review,
And her blood turned all blue,
But she carried on much prouder for it.
One star: it is plenty enough.
For the tripe, for the drivel, and cruft.
When it doesn't keep time,
Paints no image, nor rhyme -
Well no thank you; you've written enough.
You may say that this limerick's a bore -
Because you don't get metaphore,
So you'll no longer see
Any critique from me.
Cry and moan - you'll get five stars for sure!
If you think that this poem's about you:
So sorry - it's probably true.
But just 'cause you write it
Let's not get excited.
The world doesn't centre on you.