I have the desire to write.
So why must I find it so hard?
I accept that I'm not a talented bard
But I still want my words to delight.

Why must my mind repeat itself so?
Continuing to re-tread paths long walked,
I find new source of inspiration locked;
How can I allow new art to flow?

Can I even create anew?
Perhaps fresh thoughts will long evade me.
I'll walk these paths again, and see;
Perhaps I'm yet to find my way through.