The Misery of Poem Writing
I sat there staring at the screen
Thinking about lunch
Feeling very lean
I sat there still
Letters taunting me
Staring out the window sill
All I got was Nature staring back
Mocking me completely
I grew so slack
Haiku’s flashed through my head
So short and sweet
Frustrated, I went out to my shed
But narrative poetry that I must
Haiku’s so less sticky
My heads about to bust
Haiku’s I pressed on
The boss said otherwise
So much I think I might go eat a flan
Who’s this boss?
Master of school and more
Salad she did toss
She who is the bomb
Yet stern as a stone
She is known as my wonderful mom
What shall I ever do
Going through such misery
I shall go watch Winnie the pooh
Going to the big screen
I watched away
But I must return to my previous scene
Back at the small screen I ate a skittle
Procrastinating much
Thinking little
Finally arriving at the last
I think about Haiku’s
But I actually had a blast
In the yard I see our gnome
Standing there alone
Telling me to end my narrative poem
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