Lost in a Rhyming Desert

And I think it’s a crime!

I’m lost in a rhyming desert

Unable to think of a rhyme.

I feel like my pockets are empty,

Without a nickel or quarter.

It’s been a couple weeks now,

That I’ve been this rhyming dry.

It came on me like the plague,

And I can’t think of the reason for it.

I used to get so much pleasure

From thinking of a witty rhyme,

But no matter how hard I try now,

It’s just a waste of effort.

I guess I’ve just reached my limit,

Tapped out of rhyming words.

They all seemed to have flown the coop

Like a startled flock of chickens.

So I guess I’ll apply myself elsewhere,

For my creative endeavor,

Hunker down and hope this passes,

Like a spell of stormy times.