They lined the framework of my wordplay

They manipulate the sentences I say

Reorder my letters, restamp my syllables

Correct my multis, make my lines creditable

They demonstrated the pictures I illustrated

To verify that I would see why the wings on my pieces no longer fly

They diamond plated my bars, platinum gilded my walls

Restricted my skills, until the coin of wisdom falls

To say they motivated me, is to lessen their impact

For they placed worlds in the gaps of the insight that I lack

Forced life into my pieces, gave silent pads the gift of speech

Guided my pen to write beauty and instructed it to never cease

I used to move mountains and redecorate the universe

Wrote the score for gods but now it’s become worse

I now create scripts that dictate the future

I generate plays with real kings as actors

I form clouds with stanzas, I paint the sky with prose

Force the gates of poetic injustice to close

And it’s all thanks to these damn poets

They urk my tired bones, they plague my laziness

They smirk at my genius, declare my logic senseless

There is no rest for the wicked, I haven’t slept in 2 years

They hunt my nightmares, stand firm till dusk clears

Pens at the ready, their fingers locked and loaded

Delicate ingenuity yet these bastards force it

They rewrote the hand of time, leaving not the past but the future behind

These damn poets are to blame, honesty, poetic is thy name

And I sincerely confess that I’m influenced by words

If not yours then somebody else’s

I just know too many of these damn poets