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A Poet's Woes
The rainy day has left me full of gloom,
Along with rhyming words upon this leaf.
For finding words akin in sound and tune,
Has significantly added to my grief.
Alas I do not know what I shall say,
To grant the standards set before my hand.
And not to let thought wander far astray,
To keep my lines straight, orderly, and planned.
Such pains the art of poetry frustrate,
Can leave a person in a state of woe.
An aspirin for my head now I must take,
Perhaps a cup of warm, sweet, hot cocoa.
But look! I see the poem’s nearly finished.
Along with it my headache, now diminished!