PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I have a pen in my hand,
A blank sheet of paper in front of me.
I have ideas flying across my head,
The ways I want to change your view.
But I can't write them down.

I think of things I want to say,
The things I want to change,
I want to make a difference,
I want to help the people.

I hear the voices in my head,
Expressing lines to write,
There just isn't enough room,
Enough time,
I don't understand them.

There aren't enough hours in the day to write the things I want,
But I can't, still, I can't write.

The ideas I have flow out of my mind, and fly around the room,
Gold and black bees humming when they don't know the words,
Coloured birds gleaming and shining as they dipped and spun along my walls,
A desperate soul, transclucent, clawing it's way, screaming and crying for freedom and peace,
and through it all, the quiet trickelling of water,
The cheering of a crowd,
The whispering of leaves through a swaying hostile forest,
and the desperate wail of a wolf crying for her mate,

Inspiration all, Ideas, most of them, and every one of them trying to draw my attention, and have themselves put down on paper.

All this and more goes through my head,
Blocking all else from my thoughts.
Is it any wonder the page remains blank?