When I Can'T Find My Pen

When I can't find my pen it Becomes a pestering particular Problematic position of such Preposterous proportions I'm liable to search the deepest End of the lake in search of this lost treasure. When I can't find my pen at times I pretend to pretend that I have Another pen and so I start to write But it hardly clears the lines of Pages so I try and compromise And compensate carrying Constipated catastrophes pass The lines of Poetic cause. I had Not ever imagined it would be so Potently painful. Without any pleasure At all. Each time I think I have a line I loose it in desperate despair. I try To calm myself by writing haikus But it's no use i must find my pen To write with fanatical flame of Flare. If I ever find my pen again I would keep it close fastened to My lapel, and who makes jest of This seriousness. It is of dangerous Diabolical diligent disastrous Disheartening disruptive Obliviousness. No doubt I'm dying I feel my heart palpitating as I Concoct my next move. Ooh ooh here I have found my Dearest pen underneath my Desk. I generously fill this empty Page with meaningful thoughtful Stanzas of words verbs adjectives And adverbs I am suspended in the Air. Without my pen I was nothing but A senseless bore and look at me here I am in my new found IMMEASURABLE condition of sheer Grace saving face of good faith Look at me now with my Alliteration equipping lines with Words I thought I'd never write Again. Look at me now