There is a local Christian writers’ group that meets monthly to critique work submitted by the various attendees.  As you might imagine, handing over your creative baby to the sharp eyes and red pens of other writers is an act that requires thick skin and a sense of humor.  To warm up that sense of humor, I offer this little verse, dedicated to my fellow critics and English teachers.

I thought I wrote a poem, once,

With lovely rhyme and meter.

I took it to a writers’ group

Who slapped it like a mosquiter.


One thought I should have added lines,

One thought it needed fewer;

One found it all self-evident,

One called it too obscure.


One said it has the rhythm wrong

And should rhyme where it doesn’t.

One thought it was a masterpiece,

But most agreed it wasn’t.


And so I end my tragic tale;

I’ll dwell on it no longer.

I thought I wrote a poem, once—

I couldn’t have been wronger.