My fingers have been itching for months
I've wanted to type this poetry so badly
You begin to wonder how controlled your life is..
when the one thing you love, can't be achived.

Long months have passed, to me at least.
Since I posted my last poetry.
I wonder if I lost something of a gift I had.

I only listen to the sad songs now
No poetry comes to mind.
I tell myself not to force it
It's hard, when my fingers itch.

This constant itch, drives me mad
I sit to write, but something interupts.
I seem to have devoloped writers ADD
I don't know how to solve it

I'm distracted by boys, so many boys.
Girls too, so many girls.
All I want to do is write, but I can't.
I don't want to hit writiers block.

But I think that's what's happened.

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