There once was a girl who couldn’t write

Day after day when the sun’s bright

She would sit inside typing all day

Even when she thinks her idea will work, she doesn’t know what to say

In her mind, every idea is perfect

But in the real world, her ideas aren’t worth it

The girl doesn’t bother gazing at the trees

Or feel a warm breeze

Finding something special to write is hard for the girl, believe me

If only she could see

That there’s more to see in life, more wonders

But her mind is blocked by the distant thunder

Saying, “This idea isn’t good. Throw it away.”

The girl tries to ignore it, tries to write something good

But nothing is perfect, though it should