I do not want to write today
said little Peggy Ann McKay.
I have a life, or maybe tunes,
would rather sport and run with loons.
(Bad picture, there,
what do I care?)
I have a tic in my right eye
that makes my meter go awry.
My pencil’s wet, my pen is dry,
My neck is stiff, personas weak,
you’ll hardly miss me when I sneak
some stolen words into my verse.
NaPoWriMo can’t get much worse…