Margueritem: thank you for your kind words of yesterday
My ability to draw is really quite minuscule
So I shall not hold the artwork to any ridicule
My complaint now and always has been
The plots that are inane and exceedingly thin
There are those who say “well can you do better?”
“If you can’t, then go knit yourself a sweater”
Though as a writer I would surely fail
I had hopes that clearer heads would prevail
And write us a story so crisp and so clear
That we would stand up and give a great cheer
Now I have the ability to read and comprehend
And what we are subject to, is a nightmare without end
Day after day we see the same scenes
And day after day the dialog fairly screams
“We care nothing of what your petty concerns may be”
“We are in control and to us you are nothing but fleas”
Is it really the plan of the folks at TMS
To foist on the fans this tragic mess
Or is it that the writer seems to no longer care
That he serves up as gruel such an unpalatable fair
We grouse and we grumble, snicker and snerk
Some even loudly opine that Locher is a jerk
Yet we always come here day in and day out
Only to sadly retire to our favorite corner and pout
Is there a lesson here for us to learn
Or is it our lot to be continually burned
Maybe one day the sun will shine, the skies will clear
And we can enjoy Dick Tracy and not shed a tear
For those glory days of yesteryear we so fondly remember
And hope this excremental arc will be over by December.
Margueritem: thank you for your kind words of yesterday
My ability to draw is really quite minuscule So I shall not hold the artwork to any ridicule My complaint now and always has been The plots that are inane and exceedingly thin There are those who say “well can you do better?” “If you can’t, then go knit yourself a sweater” Though as a writer I would surely fail I had hopes that clearer heads would prevail And write us a story so crisp and so clear That we would stand up and give a great cheer Now I have the ability to read and comprehend And what we are subject to, is a nightmare without end Day after day we see the same scenes And day after day the dialog fairly screams “We care nothing of what your petty concerns may be” “We are in control and to us you are nothing but fleas” Is it really the plan of the folks at TMS To foist on the fans this tragic mess Or is it that the writer seems to no longer care That he serves up as gruel such an unpalatable fair We grouse and we grumble, snicker and snerk Some even loudly opine that Locher is a jerk Yet we always come here day in and day out Only to sadly retire to our favorite corner and pout Is there a lesson here for us to learn Or is it our lot to be continually burned Maybe one day the sun will shine, the skies will clear And we can enjoy Dick Tracy and not shed a tear For those glory days of yesteryear we so fondly remember And hope this excremental arc will be over by December.