The pen of a poet
with a low wit has nothing to do
with the shoe of those
who wrote their prose before them.
The same tool
can be filled with the drool
of those idiots who pivot
their pens on the paper to make a dot
and sell it as a caper.
The words they write
have as much bite as the spot
of spit they made
or, more accurately, laid on the sheet
and could easily be beat by
a small cinder that would lie on their pad
and hinder them.
However, ink may be read even after some smolder
and can age even older than saliva,
which evaporates under very little heat.
This is more than enough reason to take a seat
and learn to write with ink