BLANK PAGE CLEAN SLATE
No this is not a prank,My mind's a blank.
I haven't even got,
A rhyme in my tank.
There's no pages in,
My book of dreams.
Not unless you,
Count the screams.
There's a black hole,
Within my brain.
Gobbling rhymes,
Not all at once
just one at a time.
Seems my train
Of thoughts, Has come
to the end of the line.
I cannot think of a single
Rhyme.
Poetry by Alan J Ripley
Read 143 times
Written on 2023-02-28 at 00:38
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