![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
betteroffbadI took a cabin in the woods
I tried to write a poem in it
The words all kind of didn't fit
the bad ones blundered with the goods
I wished that I had not been born
With such a weak poetic sense
That jangles where it ought to hiss
And never flows but when I piss
For all my work no recompense
I stayed for nine days in my hut
And stared at blank or paper filled
For several small repairs was billed
After I slammed the back door shut
In anger and in selfish scorn
Because I tried so very hard
To write a poem but couldn't do it
So finally I shouted, "Screw it!"
And flung my leaves like so much chard.
I tried to write a poem in it
The words all kind of didn't fit
the bad ones blundered with the goods
I wished that I had not been born
With such a weak poetic sense
That jangles where it ought to hiss
And never flows but when I piss
For all my work no recompense
I stayed for nine days in my hut
And stared at blank or paper filled
For several small repairs was billed
After I slammed the back door shut
In anger and in selfish scorn
Because I tried so very hard
To write a poem but couldn't do it
So finally I shouted, "Screw it!"
And flung my leaves like so much chard.
