. . .

this keyboard is hardly inspirational.
my monitor staring blank.
my maroon walls mildly melodramatic,
calling out for genius;calling for drama
from my finger tips.
if i could sleep,i would.but these
bloody walls are expecting...forcing some,
some stanza.forcing words to fit
some pentemeter;some prose or poetry;
anything but Blank.
but i am . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . .
. . . .
. .
Blank.