My Critic

Old Eddy said if there's a hereafter then you are for hell As there's no place in God's Kingdom for those who pen doggerel You are below average and your slipshod rhymes bad And for people like you mate I feel a bit sad. You only write doggerel you'll never be a poet And people like you mate not worthy of note I do like good poetry though good poets are few And many write doggerel far better than you. On war, religion and politics and war refugees Old Eddy and I we have different ideas He seems rather fond of Howard and Bush and Blair And so little in common we do seem to share. He believes all of the propaganda that he hear And old Eddy is some one who is driven by fear He says all boat refugees should be directed elsewhere They are not our problem and for them why should we care? Our views very different and on few things we agree And when he says I pen doggerel his words do hurt me And the truth can be hurtful as I know too well But he's not been the first to tell me I only pen doggerel. Old Eddy says I only write doggerel And I am one bound for the poetasters hell I do like good poetry and good poets are rare Still of my shortcomings I am all too aware. Old Eddy my critic is much older than I And one well might say we don't see eye to eye But that he lacks in knowledge is no great surprise As some men grow older but they do not grow wise.