Monorhyme for Writers Cramp

My corner of the dining room is in a very fine mess
Which I use as my computer desk
Struggling to write my absolute best
The man of the house will stomp in and claim not to love me any less
I declare, I think he and the kids are plotting their very best
Wanting to disconnect my printer; no telling what will come next from those pests.
I promise you I don’t say this in mere jest
The other day I caught our son Billy making a big papier-mâché` nest,
With strips of paper made from all the manuscripts I have printed on my quest
To being a published author. I would think that all of you could surely guess the rest:

Here lies Billy.