There once was a lazy poor poet, br But indignant she didn't quiet know it. br Just one bad review, br And her blood turned all blue, br But she carried on much prouder for it. br br One star: it is plenty enough. br For the tripe, for the drivel, and cruft. br When it doesn't keep time, br Paints no image, nor rhyme - br Well no thank you; you've written enough. br br You may say that this limerick's a bore - br Because you don't get metaphore, br So you'll no longer see br Any critique from me. br Cry and moan - you'll get five stars for sure! br br If you think that this poem's about you: br So sorry - it's probably true. br But just 'cause you write it br Let's not get excited. br The world doesn't centre on you.