Dirty crumpled paper and a running out pen
Aren’t the best things to help me find inspiration
I stare at the wall and twiddle my thumbs
But still no inspiration comes
Wanting to write the perfect poem
But I can’t stay focused- my eyes just roam
Around my purposely darkened home
I try to get myself in the writing mood
But unwanted words and images want to intrude
Leaning on my right arm it begins to go numb
But still the inspiration does not come
I listen to the deepest music to set the tone
I even turn off the phone, but my mind is set in stone
It refuses to think of anything good
It chooses to close up now- it would!
Still can’t think of anything to write
So I’ll doodle anything just in spite
Of the tricks my mind wants to play
My mind is the inspiration for this poem today
No comments:
Post a Comment