A Lesson for the Joyful Writer
I know a writer
Makes me laugh out loud
But lately he's bitter
Tailed by some dark cloud.
It's more than ironic
This change in his mood.
He had been quite the comic
Now an anguished young dude.
He can't win with his writing
Any contests it seems.
There's not enough heartaching
Instead,joy just beams
From his lines about Ireland
Its bliss, its elation.
Writ' by his fine hand
Out of love for the nation.
But the judges of contests in writing, they crave
Tales of sick babies, misery and woe
Children who may before right meet the grave.
Upon those who write in this vein they bestow
Awards. First place, second if some sun dares shine through.
Let it all, joyful writer, be a lesson to you!