In a world where words can burn like fire's flame,
She penned her poems with a spark so bright,
But critics came, disliking her acclaim,
Their egos scorched by her poetic light.

Different names they called her, cruel and cold,
Labelled as an outsider, so unique,
Their narrow minds, in pride, they did uphold,
Inflated with a sense of false critique.

Bullies masked in garments pure as snow,
Yet hearts so black, intentions dark as night,
Their hidden faces never dare to show,
Feeding on chaos, spreading pain and blight.

But still she writes, undaunted by their sneers,
For in her pen, the truth will calm their fears.