I’m In A Tizz
As it appears that my train of thought has derailed, run out of steam.
Yes, it seems that my locomotive has lost its locomotion,
Thus, I don’t know what to do — I’m in a tizz — oh, such emotion.
Even though I scratch my aching head, and pace up and down
Nothing seems to come to mind — there aren't any goodies in the store.
It’s like the staff have gone off home, closed the shutters and locked the door —
Dear oh dear, what shall I do? Why does inspiration me ignore?
It’s really quite distressing — in fact, it’s even quite
For I would rather be progressing, not my dismay expressing.
Yes, it’s causing such agitation, such terrible frustration,
And hence my desperation, and why I'm deep in perspiration.
Tell me now, how can I write a poem if I do not have a theme?
How can I write some poetry when ideas will no longer stream?
Yes, how can I write a poem if nothing at all will come to mind?
Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear. Bother! I’m in such a terrible bind.
I’m so shocked that this has happened, I’m perplexed,
disturbed and confused,
And thus are hoping that my outburst will be understood, excused.
For I'm finding it quite deflating, and embarrassing as well,
Given that there's no inspiration, no light bulb, no ringing bell.
I’ve been shaken to the core, I’m so concerned that there'll
be no more,
That is, that ideas for further poems have escaped, snuck out the door,
That the well has now run dry, and that no matter how hard I try,
I will cease to be a poet — have to find solace in apple pie.
Don't forget the cream!
Just a moment…what have we here? Well I never, it’s poetry,
Yes, it seems that I’ve just written a poem despite being ideas free.
Well, I wonder how such has happened? Do you think unconsciously?
Or do you think that I’m teasing, and penned it deliberately?