It seems to me
That poetry
Is not designed for the likes of me
I’m working class
I’m not up my own arse
I don’t appreciate it’s complexity
I like 4/4 time
And simple rhyme
I don’t need sexy metre
So show me a miss
Whose couplets are bliss
I’ll say I’d like to meet her
When it gets complicated, I get frustrated
My anti-snob acid starts burning
So as soon as this sheet, is full and complete
It’s haiku to which I’m returning
RC 28-2-16
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