the Deckchair Poem

This poem was meant to be a glorious thing,

To really take off, even sprout wings

But somewhere, somehow it took a wrong turn,

The vision got lost, the fuel failed to burn

So I switched phrases furiously, here and there

Sentences too, to give it more zest, flair

But I saw it wasn’t working, I began to panic,

It was like rearranging deck chairs on the Titanic.