So I sit and I write
But all I get are bits.
Bits of words,
bits of feelings

I always get to that point
When I have nothing to add no more,
And all had dried up.

There's nothing to it, you say.
It ended and gone,
I shrink next to you and look to the sky
It is full of poems today
and it's dark, and it's mine

So I get a piece of paper and try to write
But all I get are bits.
Bits of words,
Bits of feelings,
Bits of poems,
And no you.