It All Went Wrong

It all went wrong
when I picked up the pen,
it didn't get better
when I put it down again.
It didn't come right
when I changed every word:
it didn't help a bit
that the rhymes were absurd.
I tried a neater metre
but the ploy fell flat,
and a better meta-
phor, of a paper cricket bat.
Then at last I gave it up -
threw the poem in the bin -
took a trip into the kitchen
for an icy double gin.