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