Just For Fun: Ode to the Self-Impressed

(NB - For humor purposes only. Please, dear reader, don't take me too seriously. Ever.)

To the Semi-Famous and Self-Impressed Author
Who Unfollowed Me on Twitter Yesterday

A Poem in Haphazard Verse

Beware ye touter of self and same,
Whose work hath ‘chieved a whit of fame,
For those who in your shadow lay
Will come upon our own gold day
Of pub and strub and contract. Nay?
You say?

Hark, yon heart of gleeful pride,
Doest thou doubt I’ll dance and fly?
Mistake is thine my snubnosed ‘friend’,
For when we reach the distant end
Of road-less-travelled, I’ll not bend.
Or lend

My sparkling star to thee,
Whom saw fit to poo and pee
‘Pon it when I were just ‘aspiring’ –
A hidden gem, a tarnished ring,
A twitter-itch. A nothing,
You mean?

Yea, when thou dost next consider
A twittering mess, a constant jibber,
Think on this, ye once-lauded scribe:
Your star my fall, your star may rise
Or flap, or float, or glide.
But, time?

Time flies on wings of lightest air
And takes with her your laissez faire.
And when your star doth crash to ground,
You twittering mess.  When I’ve found
Somewhere inside my round,
Your pound
Of flesh, I’ll un-follow you right back,
You seething pit of crit and flack.
That’s right, you heard,
Though p'rhaps not learned
That people are still people, were
They semi-famous here
And now
Or not.

(c)  Aimee L. Salter 2010