It all begins with some wind and a dark cloud,
The question, prompt, or being asked to read aloud.
The rain trickles down, with each drop gaining speed.
The thoughts begin coming, but they’re not quite the ones we need.
The lightning will strike and the thunder will boom,
Hitting the ground like the pen hits the table, at an instance of mental doom.
Things begin breaking and the streets become streams,
No correct answer will come from the thoughts and daydreams.
The power grows continuously, everything keeps getting stronger.
The tremendous mess of ideas on a list that gets longer.
The pure power of nature overtakes buildings from the ground,
Everything lacks focus, but thinking is the only sound.
Out of the disaster comes chaos and destruction,
Out of the brain comes a need for instruction.
But there is something to be said about the storm’s power,