Ideas of Ideas, par T.R.

T.R.

Ideas of Ideas

I lie on my bed

A pen in my hand

My brain does not stand

I cant use my hand

I don’t understand

Don’t know what to write

I look at the wall

See signs of a brawl

I think that i might

Not write it at all

I look at the floor

Ideas don’t flow

Frustration to grow

I look at the door

Maybe i should go

I walk through the park

Sit under a tree

Idea maybe

I play with the bark

Still nothing to see

Return to my home

Sit down on a chair

I look everywhere

Ideas alone

I cant find them there

I talk to a friend

Announce lack of thought

I hear what they’ve got

It comes to an end

I have what I’ve sought

So I go right back

Write on papers rough

It was not so tough

Ideas of lack

Ideas enough

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T.R.

Ideas of Ideas

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