Frustration
Write bad poems and you're sure to earn a post,
but good poets can only embrace the empty mountains
Embracing mountains makes me shake with cold.
My face is sad all day long.
They are so jealous of my good poems
words and spears grow out of their teeth!
They are still chewed by jealousy
of good poets who are long dead.
Though ‘my body's like a broken twig.
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