4 a.m. in the morning,
i have the bathroom to myself
deep within my solitude,
creative juices flowing
sitting here with pen in hand,
scratch paper on my lap
brain circuits are set to go
this poet's ready to write
first line...
As the sun rose from the east...
NAH! ...CRUMPLE, CRUMPLE...
TOSS! (too plain)
first line...
I held her gently in my arms...
NAH! ...CRUMPLE, CRUMPLE...
TOSS! (too corny)
first line...
The stars above the desert plains...
NAH! ...CRUMPLE, CRUMPLE...
TOSS! (too common)
first line...
The rain fell upon my face...
NAH! ...CRUMPLE, CRUMPLE...
TOSS! (too weak)
it's well past 6 a.m.,
my legs have fallen asleep
so where'd those creative juices flow?
FLLUUUSSHH! !
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem