Brainstorming

Smashing my head against the wall,
wondering if I have a brain at all.
Pen in hand, notebook in my lap,
spacing out I wanna take a nap.
But I must write my sad tale,
I'll be here until I make bail.
All the emotions are there, but the words won't come,
I need a word that ryhmes, but I have thought of none.
I don't know what direction this is going,
my aim is bad I'm not good at throwing.
I reread this poem but it makes no sense to me,
and if I don't like it, what will others see?
Probally a horrible piece of shit,
that's the end, cause I quit!