Literary protest

You can never write a love poem, without the risk of being clichéd
Don’t ever dare to write what’s dark, people will ask if you’re okay
When you write a story, keep a watch for Mary-Sues
And be aware of every hater, who wants to troll and spam you

When has it become a crime, to write something that has a rhyme?
When something created isn’t quite so, people will roll their eyes
In trying to be different, non-cliched, and not a stereotype,
Have we gone too far the other way? Listened to the hype, and become the same?

So, in saying that;

My love is like a red red rose
With pesticide and stinging thorns
I could sing to you the song of love
But my voice would make you mourn
Oh, for pitch, for a tone, that could sound so sweet,
A song that plays your heart!
But alas, my love is like a rose, the thorns would tear you apart