Okay, I confess, so I'm not a poet (I know, shocking), but I wrote a "poem". And it doesn't start out with "There once was a man from Nantucket..."
I'd always wanted a guinea pig when I was a kid, but it never happened. Then in grad school, I ended up with the mutant guinea pig from hell.
When my beard trimmer stopped working properly, I decided to take things (and a screwdriver) into my own hands and get it running again.
You know, sometimes I'm too witty for my own good. It's something I had to learn the hard way.
Ever feel like your life is stepping on one banana peel after another?