A Rotten Poet

 

With its leaves all shrivelled, brown and dead

You can see the negativity starting to spread.

 

Skin covered with cracks, dimples and holes

Like the spoiling of that impish soul.

 

The heart is rotten deep down to the core

Beating with badness out of every weeping pore.

 

Feeding off the life that once felt so alive

Goaded by evil, rotting away... Goodbye.

 

Bad seeds shall remain, don't help them grow

Sow something new, you may never know.

 

When the Jester jokes and the Rascal rebels

And the Rabble-rouser will twist those evil spells.

 

Bad apples are a plenty and they love to show it

Just like this poem and its rotten poet.

 

Prompt: A poem written for the Oswestry Writers Group using the topic 'The Rotten Apple'.