Nothing Poem by George Aul

On a rain-soaked day,
I sit to write a verse;
I can't think of much to write
so instead, I just curse.

I look through the window
all speckled with rain,
still can't think of much to write
so instead, I just complain.

Through the day I sit,
with my trusty pen in hand;
I can't think of a thing to write,
as the water soaks the land.

I give up at midnight
having nothing written down;
do I really think I can write,
or am I really just a clown?