The Day The Poetry Died Lyrics

Wonder why poetry is in decline

While not ever writing one lyric line

There is no experience more perverse

Than self-indulgent poems in free verse

Your pain, your angst and existential doubt

Pretention endured day in and day out

Deep thoughts believed you're the first to discern

Which all humankind must now be concerned

Substance once required in days gone by

Now regurgitated thoughts do qualify

But now, pabulums, we already know

If you can't be deep, at least have a flow

Trident and Pope are cut to the marrow

When we're taught to adore the red wheelbarrow

Free verse written without breaking a sweat

It's like playing tennis without a net