Road Block In My Fingers

February 4, 2008
What do I write and where do I start
How do I light the spark for an idea?
Why can’t I make this up like always?
Am I dead in my mind for that I cannot find?
Maybe I’ve lost it maybe I’ve lost my mind

The days drift by like plastic bags in the wind
And I still can’t find a spot to start
That one magical idea that starts everything
Maybe if I take a break I can call it a rap
But inside I know that’s a load of crap

My fingers won’t move and my pen won’t write
The paper stays blank and the computer sleeps
My fingers are tapping and my head starts hurting
The music plays the ideas of other writers
My thoughts fight like a war of jet fighters

I pull at my hair and I grind my teeth,
I crumple paper like its going out of style,
I look at the paper and I lose myself in it,
I’ve been dazed and confused for so long,
Wait aren’t those lyrics to a Led Zeppelin song?

I gnaw on my tongue and kick at my shins,
I squeeze on my pen for it is my tool of writing,
I wish I could reach into my brain and grab the idea,
This whole night has been wasted writing this poem,
Eh what ever I’m going to bed, maybe next time ill show ’em.

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