Gabe is thinking too hard.

Pathetica Poetica
- Gabe Thexton

Rhyming all the time can be a boring game,
Line after line all sounding the same,
Feeling like your words are getting lame,
Like your poems are flowers tame,
Writing so bad you'd change your name.

Pen and paper, keys and screen,
Thought you had rhyme and rhythym mean,
Something rare something unseen,
To make 'em go 'Wow, that's keen',
When all you did was split their spleen.

Letters and words to stanzic disaster,
Hung up the hat, you're not the master,
Shamed by wit thicker and lips much faster,
Left you hanging like drywall plaster,
Finding that nothing else rhymes with the last word.

Gave up on poems and moved on to prose,
And don't really care if the whole world knows,
Writing for papers and speaking at shows,
Still find yourself staring at your Frodo toes,
Wondering how you got so deep in word woes.

Take back up your pen and pad,
Write not caring if it's good or bad,
Like some PhD or Oxford grad,
Knowing that it makes you glad,
Knowing that it's not half bad.