The Dreadit Edit

GloPoWriMo Day 17 Prompt is as follows:

Today, I’d like you to challenge you to write a poem that presents a scene from an unusual point of view:

I am a book that has been done
And dusted; I would say,
That I am now a perfect one
In every sort of way!
But editor comes on the scene
To chop me into bits,
How can he be so downright mean
By going into fits,
And criticising missing stops
Or just too many starts,
Or spellings that he claims, there, flops,
Or rather rambling parts?
My prose is matchless; he agrees —
The nasty little blighter —
And says that when I’m burnt, to please
Employ a good gas lighter!
It seems that he decrees that I
Should see no publication,
By listing all degrees whereby
I merit conflagration;
I will not go to heaven, for
That’s not what he’s suggesting,
Reincarnation of my score
Report is manifesting!

As it happens, I have been editing a really wonderful proof all day, and the subject thereof is in no danger of this fate whatsoever.

© April 2019 Colonialist