'' Your Own Poetry Is In Dire Straits '' Poem by Bri Mar

We just love to slag each other to death,
That includes both the dead and the living,
Right up until we take our last breath,
We just love to be so unforgiving.

Why are we like this is the question to ask,
For cruelty we all have the will,
For what you say or write you’ll be taken to task,
Where the ultimate aim is to kill.

Is any human being better than another?
If you think yes then tell us all why,
What you find funny I may well smother,
Sometimes even the truthful can lie.

What’s rubbish to you may bring others pleasure,
That you must never forget,
Your two line verse may well be your treasure,
So why this need to cause others regret.

If a poem is rubbish by all means do say,
But don’t expect all others to agree,
We have different tastes that don’t always hold sway,
There’s no need to cause a melee.

Beauty my friends is in the eye of the beholder,
That copyright belongs to us all,
Why give another what is the cold shoulder,
Not one of us has the right to maul.

I have no problem with honest critique,
But some just live to be rotten,
Personally I think they’ve got troubles to seek,
Their remarks will soon be forgotten.

If you’re really that good at what you do,
Why you have not hit the heights?
It could be your work just makes others spew,
Why is your name not in lights?

In the main we’d all love to make it big,
For your masterpiece the world awaits,
But because you’re too busy having a dig,

‘’ Your Own Poetry Is In Dire Straits ‘’