The Final Draft

It stings at my mind
Dazed, I snap and recoil
This story needs refined
I do not wish to be the foil.

The plot clearly needs repenned,
Adding hope of reason or rhyme.
I’ve desperately tried to mend,
Clocked in double – triple! - time.

My disaster’s began to unfold
In the manner predicted from the start.
It’s all cliché I’m told,
But I don’t hear, I fall apart.