Hear this first, my brief surmise:
Can you imagine my surprise?
I read this forum,
This news,
With zeal,
As I'm a poet, it had appeal.

But what did meet my poor imp eyes?
Not words of fire and light in the skies,
Not clouds of lightning across the soul,
But tripe, dear readers - and now I know,

These writings are trash - they're utter mud,
And dare I say they're cheap bullcrud,
Because I'll further have you know,
They're defiant and kick our grammar low,
Spelling? Don't be so ignorant!
It has as much regard as lint,
In these poems which I just hate,
I'd surely love to see their fate.

I hope I'm there to see their demise,
These poets whom have raped my eyes,
Though calling them 'poets' is stupid, too,
Of brains they've got none.. or far too few.

Kazak, the wondrous

Penned by my hand on the 4th of Lanosian, in the year 182 MA.