If I was as short, stupid and fat as you
I’d live my life much as you do
A squealing piglet, ugly bored
Cursing the righteous and starlets as whores.
When will you tire, as all have of you,
Submit to criticisms I’ve seen in reviews
Of your work you deleted on amateur sites
That though are made hidden must plague you by night.
Without talent or single redemptive feature
You are a sad, yet pitiless creature
A beetle, a spider, a thing to stomp out
Know you I mean this – have you no doubt;
Pay Peter to pay Paul,
Please heed the darker call.
Alchemisland 
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