I've been stressing myself out for an idea to write aboutI've been walking for hours outside during the sunrise and sunset, hoping it pops out
Always riding on the swings at the park while smoking for no reason
A disturbing feeling inside of me like I've committed treason
I never knew how it would feel to not have an idea in my head
It's just that I've always had one and not having to crazily lay in bed
If this sounds dumb and weird, I'm sorry
I didn't expect it to be cool and adventurous like the safari
But all this time it didn't occur to me that poetry is about spilling ones emotions and thoughts
Not ruining the fun by planning beforehand like it's going to be a plot
So here I am... pouring my heart out to you
Because it's something that I'm starting to do