Poets Are Prostitutes

Poems, prose and roses Poets hate politicians Poets prefer poking pens at people P-words, power and paupers Poets love writing about love Tears, the sky and meadows Poets are prostitutes They are sex vendors They expose their naked thoughts To the world They talk dirt without apology And care less about anyone's emotions Poets are short-tempered like a mini skirt Like a G-string, there's a thin line between poetry and bigotry Poets flaunt their innermost secrets for attention Poets are prostitutes Because poets are deep They spread carnal diseases Such as satire, criticism, rebellion, revolution, philosophy and the worst diseases of all: Human love and hate Poets write out of need, Self-righteousness, lust and malice. Poets lurk in the twilight corners of solitude Under the street lights of obsession Poets are a minority group Protesting for equal rights And recognition of poetry as a profession And they claim poetic license Poets sometimes render their sensual services To ingrates who refuse to pay attention Poets are often sneered upon in a hypocritical society And a critical clique of readers Poets get arrested at night As this is the time when the goddess of creativity is moaning with faked pleasures of expression. Poets **** you up for fun. Writers are whores Who lust for the misery of others Their pens drip at the orgy of words They write from different positions They milk rhyme and reason dry They suck life's dictations Until the truth 'cums' out in torrents Poets at times endure penetrations of mediocrity And implants of other people's labour For the sheer ecstasy of public approval And literary glory Poets can rob you of your money By sweet endearing words So you have been warned: Beware of these brutal bards They can easily elope with your spouse!