The Disgruntled Poets Society Poem by Shaun Cronick
The Disgruntled Poets Society
They fed him nothing but honey,
For three captive weeks on end.
What happened next was horrific,
Stephen King could have penned.
They then set fire to his hair,
Burning down just like a wick.
A human candle he had become,
Nothing left but a waxy slick.
So to all the critics out there,
Beware The Disgruntled Poets Society.
When you cruelly undermine new work,
For they reply with original notoriety.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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8/17/2025 2:47:30 AM # 1.0.0
hahahahahahahahaha- - This poem could be the plot of another Stephen King novel! ! ! ! ! ! Or perhaps there really is a dark soul lurking in our hallowed halls seeking retribution for hurt feelings and he is armed- -with a knife, machete, crowbar, sword, ink well, machine gun, chain saw, fountain pen, howitzer... with Christine waiting outside, reving her engine... Top marks for a very imaginative poem! ! !