Ode to the Critic

The world is still a jealous place . Which hasn't changed forever . For those who cannot keep the pace . Pull on the breaking lever . Finding their voice from angry mobs . And who knows.... a little moonshine . They botch most of life's topspin lobs . Which glues them to life's baseline . Operating in this one dimensional sense . Incapable of full erectility . They harmonize in the imperfect tense . In the land of blissful unanimity . So any new thought from an unapproved source . Is rejected by their symposium . No idea, no concept can possibly force . A way through their opprobrium . A stone they may throw, perchance an egg . To register their disapproval . But truth to tell they'd rather beg . For their membership renewal . In the club offers them so much . Though we would hardly notice . Short of promoting conformity , jealousy and such . The club is sadly out of focus.

Sorry about that rhyme and rythm sometimes limit the options.