White Weewoo
When I'm lacking creativity,
My White Weewoo comes up to me.
He fluffs up his feathers, dances and coos,
Standing atop my desk as my proud muse.
There is nothing I cannot seem to write,
As my White Weewoo fills me with delight.
He gives me hope when I need it the most,
My writer's block doesn't even come close!
I wrote this lovely poem with such ease,
My White Weewoo made writing it a breeze.
He's sitting here right now, his eyes shining,
I really wouldn't swap him for a thing.