So you've wrote a book
Who cares
That doesn't make you the end all
Know all of poetic form
Poetry is an art
It's not static it's constantly
turning and churning
And who are you
To spit in the eye of that storm
.
Your accomplished
That's nice
But all I ever hear from you
Is pushing and prodding
As you spit out negativity
But not a single word
To help a budding poet
With their creativity
.
Reading these words
I bet you're shaking your head
Your lines are trash
You would say
As poetry it barely passed
You wold sigh
.
But I'm willing to bet
that there was a time
The same thing was said
About poetry
Of the prose kind