I don't know where it comes from,
this think called writers block.
It's not like I'm being rushed,
or held against the clock.

A word is a word is a word.
That's what I was taught.
A poem starts with a single word,
and help from a little thought.

They make it sound so easy,
Put together rhythm and sound.
But when i have no topic,
my thoughts just float around!

Around, around, around they float
but never in an order.
A dollar for my thoughts you think?
Or maybe just a quarter?

A quarter could be all their worth,
for nothings in my head.
maybe I'm thinking far too fast?
maybe its all in my head.