Proto-verses stuck in queue
cold shouldered by his Muse
stranded instead with a shrew
seems he’s paying his dues
“Am hardly expecting affection
merely had hoped for direction
so will settle for imperfection!”
he versifies in dejection
Amidst twilight’s hue
in the Word Zoos
phrases won’t accrue
to cheers & boos
His cadence jammed
stone-walling
his stanzas hammed
name calling
Had hoped to glimpse words that would stir dragoons
but found mostly those from burping buffoons