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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.
Copyright ©
Melani Udaeta
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