The task

They set a task
so get to it
I see you hesitate
like a stuck fritter

Are you a fritter mr blogs
are you a rhyming addict
jumping to conclusion frogs
until your similie sick

They set a task they want two hundred lines
of that talent stain across the page
in a strange shape that melted frommage
are you a quitter a desister of the sewn mitten

one that could warm the hand while it writes
nonsense meant for eyes that search for why
in meaningless rhyme coming to their sighs
like climactic dismay at literary fines

declaring your work null and void
wrong way down a one way street
the task Mr blogs are you at it already
is your creative foxxy and heady

cocky and leady
like a gun loaded and a trigger
glued to an anxious finger
are you that digit lingering

that will pull and shoot
as evidence of lack of patience
lack of literary loot
for accolades the ego hoots