I’m finding it hard, to think of things to write.
I spend my time pondering, into the middle of the night.
My dictionary’s empty, my thesaurus has no words.
I’m running out of adjectives, and have used up all my verbs.
My pencil is leadless, my pen’s run out of ink.
And whenever I get an idea, I find I need a drink.
But when I return, I discover the idea has gone.
I can’t live like this. I really can’t go on.