This write, has me looking for more topics,
I feel the box, stuck in, inside wrong lines,
Wrong lines, right lines, why must I try to fit,
It is not fine, I am all out of time...

Words and words to make me feel so crazy,
I keep on the grind to get an idea,
Do I not get this or am I lazy?
Building this dumb poem, is this ikea?

Poems have some meter but this is top,
keys to the board, pen to this **** paper,
Trying to write just makes me want to stop,
but soon I will need an undertaker,

For if truly I must, prevail I will,
This dumb poem pattern has now been filled.