An empty paper in front of me
and the pen that is supposed be
the link between
my thoughs and the written word

I always believed that I could write
about anything
But I am always wrong somehow

Wrong somehow
And I can't find a way
To release the poetry I hide
In the closet deep inside

And Why do you hear these words
Whwn I have nothing to say
I am only trying [bad word] this song

So you can see
See that i don't know
That i don't know
the way to find the words
I'm given time
Time to find a rhyme
But all I do is write these empty lines
Though I wish that i could....