Hark!
Yonder lays a deep valley of surprise.
Can't keep struggling with a sentence
The real writers write in an instance.
True
So true,
It’s all making someone real blue.
Yet, they announce
With a difference
We all are writers
We are of the same kind
We live of each other’s dime
To climb above all
Pour our venting anger in a worded bowl
Lest thy enemies scowl
Pour them in a bigger abstracted towel
Wring in dry
Robed with aphorisms
Lest they try and undermine our motives behind
And add some abominable similes
Which no one can understand?