Speak not ill of competition,
Tell not happily of his sin.
Inform me of your position.
I then can vote the best to win.
When I listen to your ranting.
It pains me so, grosses me out.
Find your lies so disenchanting,
They are no truer when you shout.
November will be too soon here
You are still in a leaky boat.
Both of you now have made it clear
Neither of you are worth my vote!
Copyright © Joyce Johnson