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.
