Writing on the spot is a real tricky thing

My stress levels are pretty damn high

Everyone's scratching away except me

And I think I might actually cry

My pen keeps stalling, the ideas won't flow

I'm absolutely, positively stuck

The girl next to me already has like ten lines

Obviously she isn't struggling as much

But I've already hit eight lines, I guess 

I've only got a few more to go

Four lines a stanza for five stanzas is twenty

My math is okay, but this writing blows

The other girls are surely penning great things

About majesty and adventure and love

But this poem has hit it's nineteenth line

So goodbye, I give up, I'm done.