Writing

I pick up my pencil And stare at the paper, Thinking of ideas But all I get is failure. No ideas, Nothing in my head, And if I don’t finish quick I’ll be as good as dead. I think as hard as I can, But nothing comes to me. Not a single rhyme. I’m as dried up as can be. I try and try and try But I’ve got nothing No inspiration I wish I was bluffing. Wait! A thought! But I don’t have much time left, So it’s time to put in all I got. I put my pencil on the paper And start to move my hand. I feel creativity flowing. Nothing I write is bland. I finish up close to midnight And I go to my bed. I try to go to sleep, but I can’t Because it’s like my mind is filled with creativity and lead.