Cries of the Poets Pain


Oh! how it puts a poet in much pain.
Counting syllable after syllable
Just to come up with the perfect refrain.

Five tercets, only a single quatrain
In which to tell my most fetching fable?
Oh! does it put a poet in much pain. 

How much longer can i suffer the strain
On my mind, of wanting to be able
To come up with the most perfect refrain?

Many a page on which i left a stain
Writing a refrain juicier than an apple.
Oh! how it puts a poet in much pain.

On days when my head is on a low plain
I sometimes wonder if my mind's stable
After thinking up the perfect refrain.

Was there really ever something to gain
In trying to write a good villanelle
Either than the cries of a poets pain
When he tries to make the perfect refrain?

However long the night, the dawn will break.

African proverb

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