I do believe I’m feeling underwrought

The villanelle won’t jell, I feel dismayed.
I know they’re hell, but they distill my thoughts
A triolet would work if I could play.

I boiled the villanelle  to sell    today
I do believe I’m feeling underwrought
The villanelle won’t jell, I feel dismayed

I planned to sell the whole lot on Ebay
But someone threw a hint I never caught
A triolet would work if I could play

I appreciate the values of wet hay
My teacher never mentioned  poems  caught short
The villanelle won’t sell, I can’t  display.

Some will plight  their  troth and others  pray
The teacher saw the writing  she’d not taught
A triolet would work if I could play

I wrote a poem with words I had not sought
Is it vice to pay when we’ve not bought?
The villanelle won’t jell,I  say,hurrah
A  violin would work if one could play