0127

crumpled face grabs at the words making into a ball,
from his thoughts he had inspiration so tall,
now with bad thoughts of uselessness,
it came over him during unconsciousness,
blanketing his eyes and deafening his ears,
his engine was running but had no gears,
not moving at all with do drive to write,
watching as the stars flow over at night,
becoming bored he goes back to sleep,
and a dream enters him taking him deep,
the sun now shines over his bald skin,
as he jumps up and begins writing what he found within.