An overwhelming consensus of studies
Strongly now suggests
The precise number of ideas
A poet can think through in a day
Is 6297.31. A fact of science
That yet reveals no answer,
Why the mystery still remains
That it’s a also fact of life
The instant a poet
Inks up his or her quill
And pulls out a sheet of paper
Placing it just so on their desk
Is the very same moment
Their mind goes blank
As an empty bird’s nest
Except for the immortal sentiment:
“I love you toots
Like you were a flower.”
Damn that brain freeze !
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I go through periods when that’s about all there is. Frozen brains.
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Oh dear, I do too! Is it an age thing?
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Actually, it was far worse when I was much younger.
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