Sometimes you have a song in your heart.
But you can't find the rhyme.
Or you can’t paint that great image in your mind.
Because you just can’t find the time.
Like being the worlds greatest speaker
Who’s just lost his voice.
A sprinter with a broken leg and new sneakers.
A child with a record breaking collection of broken toys.
Maybe you’re a dove with a clipped wing.
A beautiful soprano unable to sing.
A pitiful, sad, useless thing.
That's lost its very reason for being.
Writing is a process with stages.
Scribble down what you feel, fear no blank pages.
But it feels like you lock yourself in these cages.
Your brain tripping over your words like an aphasic,
You need to get back to basics.