Dubiety

There are countless poems...un-writ
Ready for delusions grandeur
Or the brief brilliance of a twit
Renown as a silly raconteur
Due to his love for his own voice
And for the love of errant thought
That lets his jaded brain rejoice
In any manner that it's got.

But jocund quips are not in vogue
When everyone is in a snit
And good intentions will turn rogue,
If they can get away with it...

To harvest, from an ear of scorn,
Old melancholy newly born.