Stuff Poem – Writing Poetry
They didn’t like the stuff I wrote,
Even the words I wrote with a passion,
They left me scribbling alone, remote,
Called my ‘type’ of words old fashioned.
They thought of me a ‘Ghost’ writer,
Haunted by those gone before,
Well their thoughts saw my quill flightier,
I’d keep writing all the more.
They can write the way they want to write,
Prose, free verse, words I don’t know,
While I will remain here scribbling ‘shite’,
Their ‘likes’ feed my rhyming muse so.