A Poem With A Consistent Rhyme Scheme Throughout But Little Else To Recommend It

I sat down at night
In artificial light
That was slightly too bright
And I tried to write
But I was not erudite
And try as I might
I just couldn’t quite
Get the words right
I was probably a sight
As if I’d had a fright
I was as high as a kite
After four cans of Sprite
And some wine that was white
Which was a delight
But gave me an appetite
So I had a bite
As I tried to ignite
A muse that had taken flight
As if out of spite
There was no metaphorical knight
To save me from my plight
It was a bit of a fight
But writer’s block I did smite
To produce something to recite
Though it’s not dynamite
Indeed it’s really quite trite
And a little bit sh..erm..shoddy?