Junk.

Junk

Don't know why I'm in a funk.
My head is filled with worthless junk.

My words and prose don't want to flow.
I had ideas, but where did they go?

I close my eyes and look inside.
I search and seek, but where do they hide?

I need more light, it's dark in here.
Could all my thoughts just disappear?

Everywhere I look, just random clutter.
Even an old jar of peanut butter!

Inside my head is such a mess.
The maid must have the day off, I guess.

So pen and pad will get a rest.
Maybe that is for the best.

But wait, I see it over there!
A lamp, a table and a chair.

My little voice is hard at work,
his face set in an evil smirk.

Can't wait to see what he will do,
I'll come back in an hour or two.