Messed Up:
Spewing out words that do not fit,
often ponder about your wits.
Each sentence so clumsy in rhyme,
your ghastly writing no one will take a shine.
Sometimes wonder why you even bother,
with such tripe, it should end up as fodder.
Word for word, read like nonsense,
who would purchase such drivel with hard earned cents.
Could you even give it one more try,
to write properly so as not to make me cry.
My eyes are sore, my mind is spent
from reading such prose; leaving my brain with a dent.
Steven Beesley (c)
9/8/2008
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