Oh, if I only had something to say,
I would say it with lightening speed
But the fact is I haven't which just goes to show,
Excitement is something I desperately need
My hand, it feels restless,
I need something to write
But ideas never come,
It's a terrible fight
Poems are pointless
Without any grace,
Stories are worthless
Without any pace,
I hold in my hand,
A pen that won't let me down
But all I can think of,
Just makes me frown
Oh, what is the point
To have paper and pen
When ideas slip away
Again and again?
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