Treblemaker

I now must write a sonnet but I can’t.
It seems my mind is dim with things to say.
I’d like to plagiarize, alas I shan’t!
I’ll suffer through the darkness all the way.

Oh thoughts! Do come and grant me with your light.

I have this impending fear that I won't have enough time.
that I am precariously balancing everything that is precious to me
While standing on the head of a pole
And no matter which way I twist, 
either to get away from work,

Well- I'm kind of late to this workshop, but it still sounds really intruiging, soooo, I'm doing it. Heyo my name is Jay, aka Treblemaker, and I'm so excited to participate in this workshop. This is the first YWP workshop i've participated in ever.

A quite winter snow at night
Is magical and pretty.
Until the morning traffic comes
Because its New York City. 
the cold and sparkling snow so bright
is fresh and clean and pretty white,

One empty well.
My head has dried up with words that I could
once string together effortlessly.
The ink well once so plentiful with ideas
and colorful with picture book tales
has since vanished.