Almost frozen
The lake sits like a thick stew
And I wonder if one day
I’ll see the bottom
I’ve got an itch
That grows in inches
Who’s the *****
That always misses
The blank page waits
But I’ve got no drink
And therefore my think-tank is empty
Can I ride out the storm
I can see the shore no longer
But the light is getting stronger
From an unknown source
I’ve got an ancient itch
Who’s got the original scratch