Toady Poets And Their Shared Dreamland

Where exactly are you from. Which country were you born. Oh! You're from that country! Then you, all us shall scorn. For we're a cabal of toady poets, Patting each other on the back. Uploading utter crap and garbage, For imagination we all do lack. We're a gang of total sycophants, Shunning poems of real class and style. We comment only on fellow kin poems, Destined for our large growing rubbish pile. If William Shakespeare rose from the dead, And started writing poetry once more. Composing beautiful sonnets for everyone, We all would shun and simply ignore. Any good or great poems that we do view, We bury our ignorant heads in the sand. We never do rate or pass any comment, For we all live in our shared dreamland.