I dwell on the poems alive in my head.
I can write of the future or things I have done,
Or write about nothing, simply for fun.
I can write of the sunshine that we all enjoy,
Or write of the darkness, it's threat to destroy.
I can write about goodness and deeds that are kind,
Or write of the evil, so easy to find.
I can write of the forest so dense and so tall,
Or write about progress that sees the trees fall.
I could write of the oceans so blue and so bright,
Or write of the sewerage we put out of sight.
I can write for our wildlife, our due to protect,
But we trade it for highways and choose to neglect.
I can write of our rivers, our lake and our creek,
Or write of our tip where pollutants all leak.
I can write of our youth, seeking work in despair,
Or write of our leaders who don't really care.
I can write about life and the whole human race.
Or write about death which we all have to face.
With so many thoughts spinning round in my mind.
You can see that a subject's not easy to find,
The confusion I face drives me clear up the wall,
So I've made up my mind, I'll write nothing at all.
