Creative Juices

Creative Juices My creative juices aren’t flowing right now, I wish I could start them, but I don’t know how. Words and rhymes are hard to find, As if their lost in the back of my mind. Come out; come out, wherever you are, This I wish upon a shooting star. My creative juices are running low, Hand me paper and I’ll show you so. No new ideas are coming my way, Maybe I have nothing left to say. Maybe a break is what I seek. To rejuvenate a mind that’s weak. My creative juices are reading low My dip-stick is showing so. Maybe a quart is what I need, For my engine needs to feed. Three thousand miles, I’m set for speed, But my fingers won’t do the deed.