first thing you might notice in this poem is grammar and a few other things it all has a point.
My inner editor was killed on a sun shiny day
simply because he got in my way.
Writers called what I did atrocious
but his remarks were so suspicious
so I took out my pen and wrote and wrote
until he died of exhaustion
he left behind a hurried note
you make too many simple mistakes
I silently give his body thanks
but in my head I saw nothing wrong
with all my writings or any of my songs
and on that sunny day he lied
thats why the inner editor died
