Originally Posted by Rainyshoes

A challenge to offer a rhyme,
In limerick rhythm and time.
Three cigarettes later,
My muse still a traitor,
The pressure is starting to climb.

I shout to my muse "What the hell?!..."
Indignant, she answered my yell:
"You idiot schlock,
"I'm off of the clock!
"And relaxing, in case you can't tell!"

So I give you this rather lame verse
'Cause pissing her off would be worse.
My muse, I conclude,
Is in a bad mood,
And I'm scared of her writer's block curse

(sigh)