Dear Calliope

Calliope, my dear old friend,
I write you in despair
The numerous works that I have penned
Are hardly standard fare
No, I have grandeur, I have style
My works are epic, pure
And yet denial after denial
Have rendered me obscure

I hardly seek bestseller fame
Or Hollywood awards
But they reject, with notes of “lame”
They use not pens, but swords
These hurt my feelings but I keep
Inscribing what I feel
I persevere and do not weep
I know my stuff is real

Calliope, you know my plight
So help me with my craft
I’m striving only to delight
So I include my draft
And in a SASE envelope
No postage, free of charge
So mark it up and give me hope
I wish to be writ large