The Poet Fool On the Hill

The Poet Fool on the Hill Deems any words on paper, a poem doth make? Sans meaning, depth, beauty, tis but a veritable fake! Classical forms cut to pieces with joy galore? Ah, but new forms named after sandwiches, oh my, they do score? Poems that make our spirits rise or surreptitiously fall. These, my fellow poets cannot be purchased at your local mall. Repetitive long poems with Thesaurian words obscenely dull and reeling. Shall I pen these, to be at the pinnacle of the Poetry Soup ceiling? Tis said it takes ten years to become a good poet. For me, I am just a beginner, and I most humbly admit, I most painfully know it. 11/28/2021