He Only Grows Older And Gray

I know of this arrogant judgemental fellow in his brain a screw slightly loose
In public he called me  an ordinary poetaster just another literary goose
I did find his words quite insulting but to his kind ignorance is bliss
His type to put down other people the opportunity never do miss
He is not the type i would chat to in the pub with a beer or a wine
And what he thinks and says of me is his business and his business cannot be mine
There are all sorts in the human family of that i am only all too aware
Yet it does seem a bit sad for  to think that his kind of person not rare
There is not one  harsher critic of me  as a rhymer than me
Yet what i think of  self is my business at least that's how it ought to be
Some people do lack in discretion and to insult seem all too inclined
In their putting down of other people some warped form of enjoyment they do find
He tells others what i know of myself no fool like an old fool they say
Some people as they age grow wiser he  only grows older and gray.