So f— Shakespeare anyway.
And the Hell with Hemingway.
Who needs Frost?
I think for myself,
Because I am an artist.
A clean slate.
No influences.
A genius.
I write because I am compelled by God,
To enlighten the wretched masses,
With my cursive soul.
Let all rejoice in my ambiance of proclivity!
Ah, to be pure and provocative.
My main thing is the book cover.
The dazzle may do, ring a ling eye catcher,
With words of praise for my prowess.
My name bold and centered.
The content is derivative,
Inconsequential.
To the gallows Sophocles! – Sinz
