3WW A start again

Absence for a while,
As I muster the old courage and style,

Wanting to begin to write,
setting out for a tumble dry,

Knocked, tied in a half hitch
Jeered, crying, booed off of the pitch,

Cos I drank and I drank, and I drank some more,
Til I was so dunrk,

I cuold nto ese srithgat,
or slepl, or be on tmie,
or rymhe straight with late,

until I forgot
that I was not
as drunk as I professed,

The problem is,
simply this,
Uni has knocked it from under me,
my roots of writing,
buckled at the knee.

So the rhythm's not perfect,
the rhyming's all out,
but it's a start,
which is what this poem was about.