Could be there’s a day when the urge goes away and the words on your page draw a blank?Not an ‘Olde’ English scheme where the metre is keen and the poetry often looks wank!
It’s a day like today when I’ve got nowt to say as my life seems to hit a plateau ,And I’ve done bugger all, cept eat chips and then scrawl at my drivel. I think I should go.
But wait up! What is this? Is life taking the piss? As I’ve written two stanzas of shit.An amazing (but trite) flash of brilliant shite. But it rhymes. I’m surprised I admit.
So that’s all for my drawl as I’ve now hit the wall that all sportsmen and women can’t cross! Have I wasted my words to no one but the birds? Well! I’m leaving this place ‘like a BOSS’