Running out of ideas from the back of my mind.
I thought I needed to relax more,
I thought I needed time.
But more time makes me feel so out of line
To the point that it makes me feel poor.
Poor in my chosen art, the art of poetry.
I wish I was able to write new poems everyday.
But I’m getting very discouraged lately
Because I’ve ran out of things to say.
But I don’t want to stop being a poet,
I just want to be able to do it.
But this mental block shit
Isn’t helping me one bit.
So I figured I’ll just rant my ass off
And see what that will come of.
Oh, I see I made a poem from this predicament.
But it might just be a spur of the moment.