Keep your hosts of daffodils
Your weepy, whiney, verse
Don’t try to tell me
My writing is too terse
Don't question my choice of words
If they don't match your mood
Check your privilege at the gate
As there’s nothing I’d preclude
A healthy dose of realism
Will come knocking at your door
Don’t hide behind the curtains
Because its too hard to ignore
Living a poetic fantasy
Of whimsy, fawn, and fae
Does not really cut it
In the hard, cold, light of day
The world tis a hard hard place
Life’s no shining bowl of cherries
When all we have are words and rhymes
To challenge such adversaries
So no howling at the darken places
No barking at the moon
Just pen and ink and attitude
And paper to festoon
So take heed my friends and foe alike
And read my silken verse
For poets are naught but explorers
Of the linguistic universe.
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