Don't give up your day job

Don’t give up your day job

“Dear Sir, Thank you for the collection

Of poems you sent for my attention.

I’ve read through them and upon reflection,

To put it bluntly; they lack invention.

Your rhymes have led me to these conclusions:

What substance there is stifled by style;

Your stanzas are products of delusions,

(Admittedly, one or two made me smile).

Have you read William McGonagall?

Reputedly, the worst poet of all;

He wrote the most appalling doggerel;

“Tay Bridge Disaster” is one I recall.

But, in my view, your poems are far worse;

Don’t give up your day job; stop writing verse”

I read the letter with dawning despair;

It was to me like a punch in the eye.

I read it through again, pulled up a chair,

And then I wrote the following reply:

“Dear Sir, Thank you for your kind advice;

But unfortunately, I’m unemployed.

The day job I did have wasn’t that nice;

A career I never really enjoyed,

So losing it wasn’t such a big deal

(Although the money was handy, it’s true);

It’s given me plenty of time to kill;

Indeed the collection I sent to you

Would be nowhere the size that it is

If I was still on the factory floor.

I’m sorry you found my poems remiss,

Stifled by style, delusional and poor,

I…………………………………......"

……couldn’t be bothered to finish it;

I threw it in the bin, and felt like shit.