Drought

Rain, rain, go away.
It seems that it’s the truth today.
The well has dried up leaving only pity.
Motivation gone as well as anything witty.
An ocean of dreams now replaced with dust.
When my own mind fails,
Who do I trust?
Do I look to the trees,
Searching for life on its leaves?
Or do I search the skies,
Observing all that flies?
Should I ask my fellow man for a tale unheard?
Or should I stay silent and simply observe.
Rain, rain, please come again.
I swear no thought will escape my pen.