Now let’s not get personal
Using words as an arsenal
I may be a frump
But when emotion whirrs
Words tumble out
Like a mixer on stir.
They can say, she’s old
Give her a break
But there’s only so much
Well versed minds can take.
Ideas run like icing on cake
She’d never think she would make a mistake
But there’s always a critic or two
Who are indignant, or try to woo
Words blurted out by me and you
Take it all with a grain of salt
That’s what Pliny the Elder taught.