Feeling beat by this blank sheet
A field of white with nothing to write
Is there nothing within that might cause a grin?
Rubbing a beet on a bleating sheep
Will stain the wool, and that's no bull
Is there nothing to say to brighten the day?
I'll get off my feet and get some sleep
Some peaceful rest would surely be best
Is there nothing to print that's worth a squint?
Just look what I've done! No, not one!
Not one word that's not absurd
Is there nothing, I fear, existing right here
Between my ear...and my other ear?