A poem written during a Secret Santa writing challenge last December.
This work was handwritten and produced by a human writer; no generative AI got anywhere near it.
secret santa, I’m out of luck coz
every scene’s sure to suck
chapters crash, darlings die
readers flee, I want to cry
editors refuse my calls
time to bounce off all four walls
should words no more I get to write
alliterate this Christmas night
needless nouns and vapid verbs
tasteless tripe, boring blurbs
an author’s life kicked to the kerb.
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