Just One Line

I begged my muse: one line, just give me one!
Just one to rival those that came before.
Creating a cliché before I'm done
is my ambition -- do not wish to bore
my audience to tears. I do abhor
the poems that say nothing that is new,
or worse, failing to get that less is more,
preach to the choir with a point of view.
Wish I could show what I know to be true,
that telling doesn't work, but showing does,
I've said enough, it's time to say adieu,
This sonnet, so it seems, ran out of gas.
The muse, as usual, ignores my plea.
Goodbye, goodbye, it's time for me to flee.