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Poetic Frustration
I have to write a sonnet now
I wish I could--I don't know how.
My poems, they have never rhymed
I guess I have no choice this time.
So here I sit, all full of woe,
Of what to write, I just don't know
Perhaps of love, perhaps of hate
Perhaps of something on Channel Eight (local PBS station).
Nothing comes--nothing
Witty and clever
I could be at this
Task forever.
Forgive me for my lack of skill.
One day I'll write something better--I will!
I have to write a sonnet now
I wish I could--I don't know how.
My poems, they have never rhymed
I guess I have no choice this time.
So here I sit, all full of woe,
Of what to write, I just don't know
Perhaps of love, perhaps of hate
Perhaps of something on Channel Eight (local PBS station).
Nothing comes--nothing
Witty and clever
I could be at this
Task forever.
Forgive me for my lack of skill.
One day I'll write something better--I will!
