Name of Art

Once I thought

A poet I was

‘Cause I wrote

Words so nice

Flowing lines

Easy and clear

Images that 

You could almost see

Paint with words

A world  so dear

Then I learned

To my horror

This is not

What poems should be

They need words

You've never seen

Linked together

Without a care

Blank lines



For no reason



  That   makes no sense

If you can them


The poet failed

It will never work

Now I know why

Poetry is dead

Poets killed it

In the name of art



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