I lay awake so late at night and stare up at the ceiling,
I want to write I want to create some form to capture my feelings,
But my brain so dazed and tired cannot form the right thoughts,
And so it must analyze itself to create something of meaning.

I wish I could write sonnets aplenty, haikus flowing abound,
I wish I could grace this digital world with strokes and words unknown,
But instead I am trapped behind this wall of gray called writer's block,
And cannot capture these feelings of youth and trust and love,
but at least I am trying.

You must give me that.