Waiting in the afternoon
for a thought to get me started
Locking all the doors and windows
but a thought—it brought me not
I may have to give up quotas
there're tearing me apart
Paint or draw a pretty picture may be the answer
to my plight—for my muse keeps on refusing
to introduce me to the light
Wanting me to stop all action
and just lie there, nice and die.
Wish I had another answer…
I'm just waiting a reply.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem