SBN.
Why do us poets
always let these jerks
who do not even
have an atom
of creativity
decide the value
and level
of our creativity?

ES.

Given that us
but meek poetic folk
have a humbleness
to our line of yolk
we permit these ignorant jerks
a liberal latitude
to openly express
their aimless platitudes

SBN.

Why do us poets
fall for the trends
and applause
it occasionally brings
knowing full well
it is all merely ephemeral
and what is permanent
is our depression so dismal?

ES.

We are cajoled
by the transient ovation
which resounds with much
brevity in its adulation
thence follows our
despondency of wretchedness
that descends into
a despairing grimness

SBN.

When will us poets
ever decide
that we do not care two hoots
for cheap popularity
and that our creations
are too valuable really
for some **** to **** on them
and make and mostly break them?

ES.

Oh for us true poets
to be admired with a fervent zeal
by those jerks who've
not a scrap of poetic appeal
unto us they can
dollop their excrement pile
for we shall surpass them
with our flash penning style

SBN.

So let us take in our hands
our own poetic destiny
lets write on time's shifting sand
and ensure our poetic integrity