You cannot think,
I hear you say,
Inspiration
Is kept at bay.
You say you’ll wait
Another day;
Until that time
Just waste away.
The hours, they fly
As sun soaked rays
Mark passing time
Across blank pages.
I hear you sigh,
Your thoughts, they stray;
Fantastic dreams,
Beginning stages.
- Just a little something I wrote about 25 years ago, which I find still applies far too much of the time!
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