Iambic pentameter is the bane
of my very existence on this earth.
Metaphorically it is a great train
taking away the remnants of my mirth.
Going along with the train metaphor
I’ve never been one to “toot my own horn”
but of this simple fact I am quite sure:
With a superior cranium I was born.
And yet I cannot for the life of me
Write a single line in the damn da DUM
Of this obsession I wish to be free
for my attempts to do so leave me numb.
I die inside when I realize I am
Forever to try, and fail, at iamb.
