I close the door on you once more just like before
When you chose my prose and left me so morose
With a critique so antique it made me feel a freak
And a monster can't foster child with good posture
Even offsetting such upsetting features with writing
Of wonders beyond measure for blunders are forever
In eyes of a god, what surprise at the rise of this fraud,
Automatic to cry, just a gimmick, Sorry and pathetic
These words must be to beautiful birds with fortitude
Enough to crash the gates and smash the plates
Rich hooligans do feast upon fins of beast and fish
In comfortable style I rumble and perspire from fire
Within my soul, trouble staying full, double time this lull-
abye, goodbye peach of my eye who makes my heart awry.