Nothing To Write
On a comfy small chair
Scratching my long not silky hair
Of cause am an African its just flair
The hair is just an identity like a Blair
But nothing to write not even an affair
Am talented I wonder why I despair
Writing comes from home am an heir
I should know what to write not despair
But I try to bring my mind from there
Where I all I see and feel is just glair
I try to go out and get some air
Nothing to write just thoughts that are not clear
Instead of going in circles I feel squares
I wish my brain was nice enough to spare
Nothing to write so I just stare
The chair is lonely am almost dropping a tear
Writing is all I thought was to me fair
But I lost ideas none is near
I know no one set up a snare
It’s just that am not lucky so I stare
Nothing to write is not fair
But I will wait on this comfy chair
To be able to make my talent clear
I want to write fast as dear
About the day I had nothing to share.
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