He Only Grows Older And Gray

I know of this arrogant judgemental fellow in his brain a screw slightly loose In public he called me an ordinary poetaster just another literary goose I did find his words quite insulting but to his kind ignorance is bliss His type to put down other people the opportunity never do miss He is not the type i would chat to in the pub with a beer or a wine And what he thinks and says of me is his business and his business cannot be mine There are all sorts in the human family of that i am only all too aware Yet it does seem a bit sad for to think that his kind of person not rare There is not one harsher critic of me as a rhymer than me Yet what i think of self is my business at least that's how it ought to be Some people do lack in discretion and to insult seem all too inclined In their putting down of other people some warped form of enjoyment they do find He tells others what i know of myself no fool like an old fool they say Some people as they age grow wiser he only grows older and gray.