A Writer's Spectacle

You tainted glass and filthy smut Why is it that you're in this rut? You write and write and still don't improve So why do you say, "I'm a writer, it's true!" I spit at your feet for this pitiful prose You're a no good imbecile, and everyone knows A disgrace and a fraud, that's who you are Just shut up 'till death, and then you'll go far I'm finished with you, now get out of my sight I'll just find a better man who can actually write