An Old Scab - Crash Test Dummies

I sit each morning

Look at my empty notebook

The room is quiet

The air conditioning sounds like rain falling

Manic depressive

Composer Robert Schumann

When he could not write

Get down on his knees

And he would pray for help

It's not as bad

As eating your own liver

But still I'd like to think

That there are better methods

I try to tackle

The page that lay before me

But then I drift off

And think about the concept

Of benwah balls

I rouse myself and

I finish washing dishes

Make lists of errands

Make all my phone calls

Then I pray for help

But each time

I try to make a fresh stab

I end up

Just picking at an old scab