I'm staring at a blank sheet of paper
wishing I could write you a story
or maybe just a letter.
I know what makes you laugh,
and I know what makes you cry.
But I can't write a word on this blank sheet of paper.
And I just stare
waiting for words that never come to my hand
no matter how far I reach inside my mind.
I don't know how to start,
and I don't know how to end.
I am stuck in the middle
staring at a blank sheet of paper.
It's four hours later,
and I am still staring at this blank sheet of paper.
I still see the same old scene
with palm trees and the sea.
I have no muse,
and with this short fuse
I'm thinking to end.
But I just stare
waiting for words that never come to my hand
no matter how far I reach inside my mind.
I don't know how to start,
and I don't know how to end.
I am stuck in the middle
staring at a blank sheet of paper.
It's one frustrated writer later,
and I still have a blank sheet of paper.
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