i am an artist whose mind simply no longer works
it just stumbles around, falls down, comes to
never says where it's been, and then slips back asleep,
just to dream of a higher, more sweet point of view

my paraphasia brain is filled with disdain,
heavy-laden with woes, vexation, and shame
awaiting a moment of rest, away from this stress
where i'm dreaming a brand new dream, within a dream

where i'm ready to spill out rhymes, in quick time
before the clock runs out of ticks, and out of tocks
just give me some rest... i'll lay my weary head to rest
and upon waking up, i will be free of writer's block