My mind struggles
to find the perfect
word,
sentence,
or even idea
to write about.

I am not like others,
who sit down
and write A+ poetry
off the top of their heads.

I need time to think,
to conjure up the
best possible
combination of desperation
and madness,
with a little bit of contentment.

Without inspiration,
my time is wasted.
Another 45 minutes pass,
still,
nothing relevant
comes to me.

Every time I try to write,
it always ends up
about the farm.
I don’t want it to be that way,
but I guess that means
the farm is important to me.