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Description
The problem with poems,
Is they're really quite tricky,
To write, and to construct,
Rhyming too, is finickity.

See some I read, have lines endlessly long,
And a mind-boggling structure, where the poet just keeps on, and on, and on,
Writing until they find a word that fits,
And so there's no rhythm, it's fallen to bits.

Or instead they'll opt for a hopeless poor simile,
Like how "Her lips looked like a soliloquy".
That's nonsense, now look,
Have you even read a poetry book?

If that's how you rhyme,
Then I'd rather you didn't,
Or more should I say,
I think that you shouldn't,
because quite frankly I think your work is a crime.
And that sin is murder,
For you're killing Rhyme.

Or worse, There's Others, Who write like this. In an effort, To seem thoughtful, But something's amiss. Their observations are vacant, Just sentences split, Like how they like to eat ice cream, And their cats name is Kitt.

Or perhaps they opt for some repetition.
Where there's no real point to their repetition.
It's just them saying things repeatedly,
And failing, to saying anything well, repeatedly.

Ok, so sorry,
This piece is quite critical,
And whilst it sounds mean,
Please don't take it literal,
Just help me and seek out,
Those poetry sinners,
And help them, and guide them,
So that together we're winners.

Of poetry, I mean.
It's not like we're in the Olympics....

Description
The problem with poems,
Is they're really quite tricky,
To write, and to construct,
Rhyming too, is finickity.

See some I read, have lines endlessly long,
And a mind-boggling structure, where the poet just keeps on, and on, and on,
Writing until they find a word that fits,
And so there's no rhythm, it's fallen to bits.

Or instead they'll opt for a hopeless poor simile,
Like how "Her lips looked like a soliloquy".
That's nonsense, now look,
Have you even read a poetry book?

If that's how you rhyme,
Then I'd rather you didn't,
Or more should I say,
I think that you shouldn't,
because quite frankly I think your work is a crime.
And that sin is murder,
For you're killing Rhyme.

Or worse, There's Others, Who write like this. In an effort, To seem thoughtful, But something's amiss. Their observations are vacant, Just sentences split, Like how they like to eat ice cream, And their cats name is Kitt.

Or perhaps they opt for some repetition.
Where there's no real point to their repetition.
It's just them saying things repeatedly,
And failing, to saying anything well, repeatedly.

Ok, so sorry,
This piece is quite critical,
And whilst it sounds mean,
Please don't take it literal,
Just help me and seek out,
Those poetry sinners,
And help them, and guide them,
So that together we're winners.

Of poetry, I mean.
It's not like we're in the Olympics....