Sometimes I sit and wait for a topic
Something to write about
When there is no moon, there are not thoughts
No creative spirit appears, to guide me
Sometimes I start, but stall
The words won't come at all
And so I sit and wait some more
For something to write about
Sometimes the words become angry
Annoyance and the lack of cohesion
Trying to force them only leads to frustration
And like a hat that doesn't fit, my head hurts
Nothing to call upon, and 'Delete' becomes the norm
key strokes are meaningless without purpose
And so I sit and wait for
Something to write about
Stanzas begin, but break down when in full flow
Just because they make no sense
But would the reader understand?
Who am I to judge how they would view the nonsense
After all, some fellow writer may think it courteous
For me to let them view, something I wrote
And still I wait.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem