Seeking Flattery of the Crowd
Like a deadly drug, it makes us dance
Put our nose in the air, turn our backs .
Craven souls, want another chance.
Walking over friends, we call hacks?
On, yes we sign, love, but mean it not!
How many trophies can I win ~ I want!
More flattery, please, as we do begin,
On this racetrack of pride,self loved sin!
Classical poets here, very despised.
Only new poetry forms have a place.
We want only our names in the skies.
Self-aggrandizement, a sad disgrace.
4/19/2023
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