I can no longer write, the things I can't say
I sit and lay things out, but it doesn't work that way
So I've given up again, or maybe just for today.
All imaginations are gone, lost without any trace
And now my poetry is nothing, but a disgrace
Though my body's moving, but my mind can't keep pace
So I sit here now, stony look upon my face.
What I'm gonna do, all my thoughts have run?
And Ideas won't come out, not even one
The thought won't rose up, like the morning sun
So I'll write about having no ideas, just for fun.
