Inspiration, Where The Hell Are You!?

I’m thinking so hard, tearing at my hair

Trying to find what isn’t there

I’m staring at the screen, at the empty page

There’s nothing in me but frustration and rage

All my ideas have vanished, inspiration has left

And here I am, quite really bereft.

I’m slapping the keyboard

Will I be started at all

When all the leaves begin to fall?

When the sun finally burns itself out?

I’m so frustrated, I just wanna shout

Pummel my pillows, throw something at the wall

Just can’t think of anything at all.

Then something clicked, in the back of my head

Maybe it was something I did or said.

So I ended up writing this poem as such.

Writer’s block. I think it loves me too much.