Criticism of this poet, by his friend

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My friend, the poet, is a fraud

(He's also intellectually flawed),

He strings together, badly I'm afraid,

Words without rhyme, their meanings strayed,

Undecipherable as hieroglyphics

Less literary, somewhat more scientific,

Four-line stanzas of moans and groans

Naked imagery without any flesh or bones,

I've read several lines of his so-called verse

Each following line appears worse

Than the previous line I read, I'm in shock,

So I criticise him, scoff, and bemock,

A blunt sword is mightier than his ink-dipped pen

Yet continues with this nonsense over and again

He hopes for the recognition he believes he's earned

He's certainly no Shakespeare, will he ever learn?


◄ A franchise on my soul

A young man from Leeds ►


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Russell Jacklin

Tue 6th Dec 2022 11:28

Will do John

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John Botterill

Mon 5th Dec 2022 21:57

I think your friend deserves an uppercut followed by a right cross, JD. Show him the grass! 😂

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Russell Jacklin

Mon 5th Dec 2022 17:27


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Stephen Gospage

Mon 5th Dec 2022 16:59

He sounds a bit like me, JD. Still, I'll get the hang of it one day!
Many thanks for this.

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