It seems my dear,
Our wit is lost upon you,
Drowning in the chaos of your mind,
Simple thoughts,
Thought by simple people.

Through your speech,
The mis-spellings,
Incorrect pronunciation,
One finds it difficult,
Difficult indeed,
To converse with one such as yourself,
And expect to come out better for it in the end.

Because it is obvious,
Unlike yourself,
That I am no poet,
And that there is not much to say,
That hasn't been said,
On the topic of stupid people,
Saying stupid things,
But of course this is indeed,
Just an opinion of mine.

So when I tell you to your face,
Or whisper in your ear,
The subtle voice with which I speak,
May not be so clear,
But hear me now,
And listen well,
For only one warning will you recieve,
Your work is appreciated by few,
And read by fewer,
So do yourself a favor,
And the rest of us,
By taking up letter writing.

So when I say,
Enough is enough,
I mean it,
And I'm sure that is quite clear,
That while your words lack wit,
And the very soul of it,
Brevity of course,
They do indeed provoke emotion,
Within many to be sure,
Annoyance,
And anger,
Without a doubt.
By taking up letter writing,
Just an opinion of mine,
Thought by simple people,

Penned by my hand on the 14th of Midsummer, in the year 112 MA.