Food from Thought

I know a Mrs. Whose sight is so small

Some days I’m not sure she has any at all.

She only likes words if they’re skinny and tall,

If they’re not from the book then they’re not words at all.

She sighs with malevolence, burning a hole

Right through my scuffed papers, on down to my…heart

You see, I switched words there, to drive Mrs. Mad

She scoffs at my adverbs and follows the fad

I know I can’t write, but that’s alright with me

No thanks to that Mrs., I’m just glad I can be.