0.02% inspiration

Its not behind the settee

Or hiding at the back of my knee

This missing inspiration is taking the pissing out of me

All the words I try to write right

Turn into unoriginal re-heated shite

I’m an imaginative metaphor or two (shine a) light

I searched upstairs in my bungalow, it wasn’t hiding there

Got the floorboards up under the squeaky stair

Checked it wasn’t hiding amidst my nasal hair

I rolled the roller disco

That inspiration was a rollery no show

Dancing elsewhere with some other beau

I tried checking if it was with Wally

In a magic eye or backwards played LP

Nor even stuck with a cat up a tree

It keeps teasing me with hints that its close

And yet I lack the knack to be verbose

Even the simple rhymes fail in my prose

Its whispering in my chuffing ear

That the blank blurry page will soon be clear

Is having nothing to say really such a fear?

And yet I’ve looked so hard I’ve failed to see

That I’ve managed to write this far, so it must still be within me

All that perspiration seeking inspiration and inspiration was just taking the pee