the loathesome poet
deterred beneath the trunk
of the apple tree
his many missives
in form of rotten fruit
each sickly seed
another poisonous ode
to wretched insignificance
the many branches
hang forlornly
in the willing heat
of summers spent
penning whimpering simpering
words into the void
of another
existential nothing
Mike's Manic Word Depot 
I like this one…simply because I want to apply it to other poets. So, don’t you dare apply to yourself! But somehow, I know you did. And that’s why you’re a poet. This really is a gem..
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we will pretend I didn’t. thank you for your kind words though.
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