I cannot write a workshop
I have a mental block
I fear that my grade shall drop
There's no time left on the clock

It's really hard, you know
To write something new
When your brain just won't go
Know the feeling? I do

You sit around for hours
Not finding the right thoughts
'Should I write about flowers?'
I think that I should not

This is all that I've got
And it's certainly not great
Later, I'll find the right thought
But that thought will come too late

I know I'll get a bad grade
Look what I have so far!
This is the worst that I've made
It's way below the bar

I just had a good one
But then it left my head
I lost my only good pun
I'm sure my grade is dead

People say my sense of humor
Is not funny in the least
Perhaps I have a brain tumor
Or a cruel joke-killing beast

Oh, who am I kidding?
This lack of funny is all me
My brain won't do my bidding
This you can quite plainly see

I know there there must be something
A thing that I can write
I know that I'll find that thing
If I stay up all damn night

But perhaps I can write this all
With no humor whatsoever
After all, it is my call
Oh, I feel so clever!

And now that I am finished
I can finally rest my head
My energy has diminished
I need to go to bed.