Brain Dead

I cannot think,
I cannot write,
I cannot fathom why,
I cannot even read a page, I think my brain has died.

I cannot feel,
I cannot see,
I cannot suss it out,
Just what the hell is going on, my writing's lost its clout.

I cannot find a remedy,
I cannot do a thing,
It seems as if a cranial plug hole's emptied everything!

I can't find words,
My mind's a blank,
I think I've had a stroke,
I must have gone all brain dead, all ideas gone up in smoke.
I think I'll have an hours' nap to try and sort it out,
Or maybe I'll pop down the pub before they call last shout.

And now I've had myself a beer, or two if truth be told,
As well as several whishkies, who sez I'm gettin' old,
Perhapsh I'll 'ave annuver,
A large un if you pleash,
Thash it I'm feelin' better,
An' now fer mash n peas.

Ha ha. It seemed like a fitting ending to something that started too seriously. Hic !!!