A attempt at a Telestich poem, where the last letters of the lines spell the title.
|Poetic challenge leaves me numb.
Ideas won't come, my mind's at sea.
Head is spinning, feeling manic.
Must not panic, must not freak.
The words I seek are no enigma.
It is no stigma if I miss
the steely kiss of perfect rhymes
like the many times I've failed to show
how little I know of poetic schema.
I must seem a literary loser,
a word abuser who never tried
to play inside the lyrical lines.