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On A Plain

Rating: 5.0
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.
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COMMENTS
Con Nie 11 July 2006
I can relate to this poem as it does happen to me at times too. Good one. Sincerely, Connie Webb
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