I sit in my seat
and stare at a blank sheet of paper.
An assignment to write a poem fills into my ears
and reaches my brain.
I have everything I need.
but no idea.
I can write about anything,
but nothing comes to mind.
I can write about my dog,
or even good memories that remind me
of a simpler time.
those ideas are boring.
Who would read a poem about dogs?
I know I certainly would not.
Its time to change poem writing,
no boring poems
I will change the history of poems forever.
But, I do not know what to write about.
I think really hard to find an idea.
OH! I got a great idea…
And the topic is gone,
roaming in my brain with other forgotten things.
and if, I remember it again,
I will think how stupid it was.
That’s what’s wrong with poems.
If they do not have an interesting topic,
why bother to read.
I just want to write a wonderful poem
that everybody would love to read.
I could do that,
if only I had a topic.
I think to myself as hard as I can.
Who cares on what other people think of my poem?
I will write it how I love it.
But just to me,
I don’t care for average topics.
Why relive something I barely remember
and is just blank to me.
I stare at my blank sheet of paper.
Mocking me with nothing on it,
as I think hopelessly,
in my seat,