Fenris Gob
Gob thought himself the greatest poet
He often said ‘And don’t I know it!’
Smug and boastful with little praise
For those he felt in deep malaise,
‘I have great talent, look at me
Read my words and you will see
How great I am, my talent shines
I write prose not nursery rhymes!’
Gob’s conceit was mere pretension
He thought in depth but without invention
Blinding others with fancy phrases
And waiting smugly for their praises
Sadly those who read each word
Just viewed poor Gob as quite absurd
‘That does not matter’ Gob used to say
‘You’re a simple fool, just go away’…
In time his poems gathered dust
And Gob’s few readers no longer fussed
Over a man who only criticised
A man who people now despised
And now poor Gob he writes alone
But he does not boast,
He has a softer tone
Although no one listens anymore
As now poor Gob is just a bore. 