You sit and you scream about our bad verse
And you throw out your words, so cutting and terse
And yet you fail to notice, my friend
That your poetry is worse than ours in the end
You still lack the judgement to properly say
"You all just stink. Please go away."
Your "support" is invisible unto our eye
So I'm inclined to think you just lie
So when you speak out against the bad poet
Start with yourself. You suck and you know it.
Save our poor minds from the droll tasteless banter
You are nothing more than a poor, mindless ranter
And if there, indeed, is more than just one
Think twice, my dear friends, before poking fun

Penned by my hand on the 8th of Haernos, in the year 149 MA.