Ode to a Judge

So you’re turning fifty, which sounds really nifty
I should hope the day is a blast
Although I confess, deep inside a recess
I secretly wish it won’t last

I know wishing is bad and the wisher can be had
By sending vicious wishes upon others
But I really don’t care and I’m not one to scare
I can be quite the malicious little bugger

“Why sound so bitter?” you might want to Twitter
“You sound like you’re holding a grudge.”
“Oh no”, I retort, and laugh off with a snort
But in truth it’s because you’re a judge

I think my writing is great, others say it’s top rate
Yet you never even give me a glance
I feel that’s quite rude so I shall then conclude
That you refuse to give me a chance

Though it’s not about me or any of us, you see
I’m just acting out what is inside
I was a wee bit freaked, I might even say piqued
I’m not used to damaging my pride

Five decades have gone and you’re still moving on
Giving insight to all of us here
You read and critique and give hints when you speak
I meant write, not speak, to be clear

Ok, I feel better – I’m no longer a fretter
This catharsis has cleared out my head
I was ready to eschew my writing ‘cause of you
Now I won’t, so I’ll thank you instead

I was ticked at your judging and prolonged my grudging
Til I guess whoever knows when
Now I’ve expunged my angst so I guess I’ll give thanks
And wish a happy two score and ten

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