Projects-
Months without inspiration, Drought of thought plagued
Famine from the mundane day to day
I turn on the lights and the bulbs are all dead
The concept is there trapped in my head
My quill parched for ink, As i stare at the white page
I wish i could let the ideas out of this cage
Haulted brain waves need a little kick
So i try out my usual lucky bag of tricks
Hopefully get juices flowing, wait to see what idea sticks
Repetition of the same humdrum routine
If i dont find my muse i might just scream
Out of the blue watching the same old show
A spark of a lightbulb ideas they roll
So i grab my notebook jot it all down
Like a sculptor with clay ill play around
Shape the foundation fill the details in later
This is my world and i am the creator.













