My unfortunate bad luck with trying to write. |
I started on a journey to write a funny little poem, And only half way through. There were no giggles, no laughs, No side splitting, gut churning, hula-ba-loos. So luck to me, and good fortune to you, Only half way through. I was able to stop and change my course, without having to start anew. So a song it will be, a grand old lyric. A frolicking verse, to mimic the greatest of hymns. I will fill it with meaning and mesmerizing metaphors, Which displays my dependence on sin. But when I had finished, My words had fallen short. They couldn't convey the feeling of torment and pain, Or anything else of the sort. I looked at my little manuscript, A wince from head to foot, a feeling none could match. Oh! The pain and anguish I thought to myself, Of starting again from scratch. "I know I know" I called out in joy, I will write a book, a novel you see! The greatest story to every be told Will most certainly be told by me! I sat right down with pen in hand, And a tablet for my book. But soon fell short, a few pages in, For lack of spectacular hook. So I throw in my pen, and raise the white flag, With bottle in hand, head all a swimming. I decided right shortly, To take up the brush and start painting! |