Reading through your writing hurts,
You don't know how to treat your words,
Impoverished, they're scattered on your floors.
(My dictionary is bigger than yours.)
[Obviously this doesn't apply to anyone on this site! I ended up with a clerihew, which is why there's this extra bit of text here at the bottom to make sure I make the word count. I was wondering if it would be possible to write it into a sonnet, but the title won't fit to iambic pentameter which ruled out using it as the denouement. Oh well, I'll throw the sonnet idea out to whoever comes along next!]