POETS, UNITE!

The other day
As I sat in my room
I was avoiding the laundry
And the vacuum and broom

There's not much to do
When you haven't got friends
But find the start of insanity
Right where tedium ends

So I went online
As most teenagers do
Searched through some posts,
More "news," nothing new

Somehow, I managed to click a link
That implied a horror that I couldn't even think
"The End of Poetry, Drawing Near"
I fell right off my bed in fear

What were those words and can they be true?
There were so many amazing poets I knew
It was surely just a lie, a gullible joke
"Everything's fine," I could barely choke

But I clicked on the link, just to be sure
And the next few minutes are sort of a blur
The was something about how no one read
And the world of poets was all but dead

I think I fainted-- or just fell asleep
But fear not! In my dreams, I continued to weep
And perhaps I exaggerate the way things went
But my heart has surely taken a dent

Poetry dead?
What will we do?
How can we help
And pull this thing through?
It doesn't take much; just me and you
So come on poets, there's so much to do!

Keep posting poems, never ever stop
Even if they say that the ratings will drop
Even if modern poetry "sucks"
Spit in their face that we don't give no f**ks

We are the poets, and we're here to stay
All of us just as important in our way
And nothing will end our poetry's reign
For we've nothing to lose, and all to gain

They say poetry's dying
But not without a fight
We're all holding hands--
POETS, UNITE!