Steal This Poem

If you are unabashed to claim this verse,
then all its love and hate belong to you.
Some think it overlong; some find it terse.
Some understand, but most don’t have a clue
just why your rhyme and meter carry on,
when all the world’s an oyster to be shucked,
sincerity’s the foil to a come-on,
and “beauty” follows “beauty” to be fucked.
You have a verse, but do you have “success?”
The adolescent heart beats fast and bleeds,
and then, at twenty-nine, gives up excess.
It’s nature’s course. A poem, no one feeds.
You have a verse beyond their expectation.
Please take my word; you have my admiration.