“You’ve got to get a poem out,” I tell myself in bed.
“Your thoughts are stale, stagnant, and congested in your head.
Your constipated consonants are backing up your bowels.
Your deficiency in assonance: a stomach-full vowels.
Your apathetic rhetoric is sounding rather tired;
Today’s a day to hope and pray that you might be inspired.”
“You’ve got to get a poem out,” I tell myself in bed.
But I’m not sure it works like that, so let me sleep instead.
[29/12/18]
This, I relate to. Excellent wordplay!
Thank you! It’s good hear hear that I’m not the only one!
You are welcome and I am sure there are many who can relate.