Why canít people say what they mean -
Speaking clearly to listening ears,
Not intoning riddles pompously and boring us to tears?
I like my poetry succinct
nicely put, but to the point
I hate that flowery mannered stuff Ė I yearn to scream and quit the joint.
So if by some unlikely twist, this rhymeís to be read out of a book
Read it simply without airs,
Or risk being felled by my swift right hook.
This poetry is protected by copyright - and must always be attributed to this blog.