Living in self-made delusions;
Surrounded by a shroud of lies;
Enclosed by false conclusions;
Drowning in the truth you despise.
This sophomoric truth rises,
Alive, unable to breech
Your hatred, no surprises.
But still you preach!
Sophomoric poems you say?
Truth will never rely on you,
Unable to poetically convery
A thought or concept new.
Gather’d together with fools
Who rationalize their hate
Of truth and honest rules
So all they can do is berate.
The sophomoric verses I write,
Dig deep at your ego
Slicing with truth so right
As I upset your vertigo.
The sophomore lines I sent
Are more than you have done.
I know you can’t invent
A freshman verse of one.
So why pretend to be
A critic so renown?
Anyone can see
You, a podunker clown.
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