I forget how to write
How to think into words
How to put down a puzzle
And know where it ends
All my poems don't work
And my stories are dead
My characters are bored
And my readers aren't fed

The artistic block hurts
No I can't even draw
All my outlets are closed
And my soul isn't raw
Brainstorming gets nothing
The blank pages aren't full
But they sure are aplenty
Am I losing my cool

I hate it when I'm thinking
And there's nothing to put it on
And that's when I'm flowing
Then just a little later on
I'm dryer than Sahara
And there's nothing going on
Like no words are good enough
And no ideas are available (call back)

There's no guts to this
No concepts to pitch
I can't even think of something creative
For paper for poem for story
Even music playing is wrong
It's not good enough-not good enough
When did my standards get so high
That nothing was good in my eyes

All I need is a launching point
Something that feels right in my joints
That breathes soul into my fingers
And preferably bothers to linger
So I can get a something done
And get the weight to be gone
Because I'm so tired of wanting
And not being able to do anything

Basically it's creative block
All my luster tubes are clogged
I leave my home in search of light
And on my face try to fight
But it's just one of those icky times
When all you've got is malign
So I've taken steps up the decline
And I still can't think of one more rhyme