I hate writers cramp
I don't want to write
Don't want to think
And my imagination collapses in on itself
I hate writers cramp
I get cranky
And i see everything as being pointless
And stupid, and worthless
I hate writers cramp
Nothing flows how it should
Nothing sounds like it should
and everything i write
Deserves to go to the waste-paper basket
This is one of those days.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem