I have no inspiration
I simply sit her and see
If anything good or of meaning
Will come to me
I make up bad rhymes
And think of some times
That I wish I had had
They're usually accompanied by wind chimes
Do you see what I mean
This is what I'm talking about
I make up totally false poems
With people that I know nothing about
Why can't I be
A Seuss
or a Shakespeare
They simply made up words to rhyme
Like Squitsch
And changeful
Maybe that's what I should do
Instead of sitting here
Trying to write, instead, coming up with doodoo
I'll make up my own words
Use fake ones
And then I'll have an entire dictionary to use
When my brain can think of none
My first word is lun
Which here means a zun
Making sure to scun
Each and every clun
That tries to steal his qun
That wasn't so hard
But how to explain
What a shaptay is
When it doesn't look like a plane
A zain looks like a plane
But a zain acts like a tayne
Now, my leg is bouncing
And my heart is racing
With all of these new words
I can already tell
That nothing will ever




ever





be the same.