Dear Inner Self,
So I’ve got this poem,
I’ve gotta write for school.
It doesn’t need to rhyme,
But that’d be pretty cool.
My thoughts have gone blank
And smell like eraser shavings.
For, Inner Self, I don’t know what to write!
A good idea for me is like snow in California,
Only happening once in a blue moon.
My pencil is like a giant weight in my hand
As I write to you while I wait
For a shimmering ray of brilliance
To throw an idea at my solemn face,
So I can get this poem done and over with
And turn it in today.
Well, Inner Self, I was hoping you could help me.
But it turns out you’ve done nothing,
But mock me by sulking in your pile of fabulous ideas
That I can’t seem to grasp.
Goodbye, I say, and away with you!
Poetry was never my best subject, I guess,
And it’s definitely not worth the stress
To talk to you worthless being.
Farewell, Inner Self!
Sincerely,
Yourself