Critics

Those who criticise
Seem to think they’re wise
They always see the error
And care not who’s the bearer

There’s ruin in the wake
Of their castigating take
On labors of love
They just don’t approve of

They know the public’s blind
They know it’s not inclined
To look further afield
Too lazy, eyes unpeeled

Taking what’s read is true
Without further ado
This was no Kubla Khan
The reader stumbles on

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