Put down that pen
Relax your hand
Please quit writing
Smash your keyboard
With a sledgehammer
Please quit typing

I’ve had enough with the compliments
On your half assed verses of antiquated love
On your verses of woe is my childhood babbling bullshit
On your verses of epiphanous enlightenment
I can’t believe that you’re what passes for good poetry
All that praise must be going to your head making you loco
Thinking that you can get away with writing that utter crap
I can’t believe you have so many admirers, so many followers
Hanging on to your every unsurprising word
Mad-Lib poetry, paint by numbers
It’s nice to see that that thesaurus and rhyming dictionary
Are working wonders for your writing
Like you’re some fucking messiah
Writing the perfect words for how they feel deep down
Like you're some fucking prophet
That speaks the word of the masses

Listen to the masses speaking from my tongue:

Put down that pen
Relax your hand
Please quit writing
Smash your keyboard
With a sledgehammer
Please quit typing