Am I a Mirror

Tin men poets
Write without heart
Create rhyming irrelevance
Pretending it's art

Average Joe
With ode to the mundane
Blinkered to all insight
Never knowing pain

Great listeners
Have little to say
Clumsy with their words
They just bore you away

Ego eccentrics
Pleading, look at me
Delusions of talent
Nothing there to see

Hypocritical poetasters
Preaching to save your soul
Vanity’s a sin
Yet self promotions still their goal

Robotic writers
Empty inside
Invisible to the real world
Within their words they hide

poem by by unknown author
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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