You can’t help it,
If your muse hasn’t hit you up right,
You feel empty,
Regardless of how hard you have tried.
As I scribble this,
Willing for the block to shift,
And for me to clearly see,
That which lies ahead of me.
Wish me well.
You can’t help it,
If your muse hasn’t hit you up right,
You feel empty,
Regardless of how hard you have tried.
As I scribble this,
Willing for the block to shift,
And for me to clearly see,
That which lies ahead of me.
Wish me well.