We Can All Write A Book, Mate

I’m not jealous

Of your work

Your sales

Or, so called, talent

But you’re just so rude,

Now with your shitty attitude

Becoming more

And more apparent

Bloodbath

I didn’t ask for your opinion

In fact you’ve got a cheek

Now kindly piss off

You supercilious toff

Or I’ll knock you into next week