I don't need no editer. Hmph! My work is good.
telling me 'bout spelling errers and writting like I should
People knows just what I means, Ain't that all that matters
words don't have to be all clean and fixed like dainty platters.
I writes from my inner man and makes the world to sea
all the heart felt beauties and things that makes us free
Don't got know time for grammer rules, speling checks and structure
dat editer messed up my work, and cuased my heart to rupcher
T'was nothing wrong wit what I wrote for nothing else will due
he filtered it with grammer rules and now it's all, but true
It lost it's flaver. Lost it's life, he killed my work of art
it just ain't me, no longer free, don't torture me, dapart!
And so I start again on you beloved poem that's true
No editers, no critiguers, no publishers, just You.
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