I'm trying to be bubbly But my mind it keeps mumbling Then my stomach starts rumbling I try to ensure you I'm serious Yet the words fall from my mouth, delirious
The pen marks the page Only scribbles remain Unsure what to do So I sit in disdain Need to erase all the pain Maybe dance in the rain .... It all conflicts in my brain!
Why can't I write? Is it in spite? Was poetry a mere mechanism to cope, Is there no hope?
Maybe I'm full of it Nearly at the end of my rope, How can words express When I'm not a mess Outside of the nothingness, What even is happiness Still learning, still yearning Excited for what's next Maybe that's all it is.
A poem made from scraps from a time of writer's block, which coincided with a time of happiness.