I'm studying real poets.
Shelley, Sandburg,
Frost, and Wordsworth.
Coleridge, Blake,
and William Butler Yeats.
Do you know why they're
considered real poets?
Because they made art,
not hashtag trends.
Wrote from Experience
with black quill pens.
Sure, they got high,
but wrote on instinct.
And The Road Not Taken doesn't
mean what you think.
They wrote about about life
and the world that they heard,
not ******* in the margins
of Microsoft Word.
This was the first rhyming poem I've written in two years. I thoroughly enjoy tearing into the people whose "poetry" trends just because it's about a boy not loving them back. *******.