Acrimony

Get offline. Meet me at the corner! My words are like the wind, whistling in unassuming; Your words are filled with daggers, attention seeking shouters; Can’t come up with ideas of your own, you’re too focused on yourself to think, much less see anything else; Are you just daft or do you have a death wish? Get offline! Meet me at the corner; See I write everyday. you write when you feel it suits you; You have no connection to the Muse, but that’s something you won’t admit to; I said it before, you’re a one trick pony and you’ll never change the game; You can have your five minutes in the Sun, open mics are merely a small piece of me; My focus is the words, I’ve already won. Get offline! Meet me on the page! Dunk on people? The one with a vocabulary holds the record; Will your slang stand up on paper? Your backboard sits shattered; I could say it vaguely but you’d choke on the metaphor; Such fluid electricity can’t be found in acrimony; Are you just daft or do you have a death wish? Get offline! Meet me at the corner.