I'm afraid I musn't be too bright,

For I cannot think of what to write.

Should I write a poem or a story,

Would it be happy or rather gory.

In imagination I must have nil,

My pencil's motionless against my will.

The paper is blank, not a scribble on it,

Not a line, nor a verse, not even a sonnet.

Frustration is building, I'm feeling quite bad,

And my English teacher will be quite mad,

If I hand in a paper when nothing is there.

I'm biting my fingernails, pulling my hair.

In the depths of my mind, all the cupboards are bare.

Maybe I'll just quit! Oh, I don't care!!

But I have to write something, if only a letter,

My mind is in knots, and it is not getting better.

I'm feeling quite nauseous, I'm beginning to sweat,

If my mind was a bank, I would be in great debt.

I've just realized something, my mind's in alignment,

Through all this whining, I've done my assignment!