Just About An Imagination.

I Imagine a paper that is unstained in ink And I have given a day in forever to think. My pencil is sharpened, My mind is alight, And yet I cannot think of something to write. I think about stories, I think about plots, But all on my paper are some inky dots. I draw a nice doodle on the side of my page, A dog or a horse or a little bird cage. I write down a word and thoughts scribble it out and I am not quiet sure what I am thinking about. I pull out my hair and I bite on my nails My mind starts to wander and begins to bail. I pull out a book or an inspirational movie, And think about so many things it’s a doozy, And wonder about things that are all quite strange, And question if may be I just cannot change. After all that I think and that I do, And after the span of an hour or two, I begin to see what I have missed all night, Just what I think I will be able to write. So, I set on my paper with pencil in hand, Sharpener near by a paperclip stand. My words scrawl across it and up it and down. I start to amaze and inspire and astound.