Staring Blankly at My Computer Screen

Cannot think of ideas clearly

I want to write something dearly

Nothing coming to me drearily

Is that an idea? No, not nearly.

Where is the imagination in my head?

My fingers moving but mind brain-dead

I'd rather play Call of Duty instead

On shaky moral ground I shall tread

12:11 but still not dressed

My parents' patience put to the test

Still in clothes from my prolonged rest

Got to get this off of my chest

Now I'm clean, just took a shower

Left my screen for half an hour

It's obscene, brain losing power

Hate to be mean, but others cower

Poetry gay? I think not

Here I lay, the talent I've got

There's no way that girls find it hot

"Go out?" I say, but I ain't got a shot

Ending this madness, all forever

Filled with sadness, I don't know whether

Is it badness? When hatred forever?

Why do I have this? But it is clever