So what do you think you are, a poet?
... the answer is no.
Nobody could love a poet. Not really, maybe they can grab a piece of attention occasionally though.
I know what you're trying to do.
You're trying to write a poem about the toiling look that's on your face while you poo
...and then what?
let me guess: Then, you explain all about how it's a metaphor for your birth from the perspective of your great-great-grandpapa the WW1 veteran.
So you think that being a poet is a high-class status?
... it's the same line of questioning. We already know the answer to that.
... the answer is no.
Nobody could love a poet. Not really, maybe they can grab a piece of attention occasionally though.
I know what you're trying to do.
You're trying to write a poem about the toiling look that's on your face while you poo
...and then what?
let me guess: Then, you explain all about how it's a metaphor for your birth from the perspective of your great-great-grandpapa the WW1 veteran.
So you think that being a poet is a high-class status?
... it's the same line of questioning. We already know the answer to that.