As you get older,
do the words grow colder?
what once came pouring out
now I'm lucky if I get the odd spout
looking back, it makes me feel proud
I wish my inspiration now could be so loud
The words would form beautiful patterns
Now I search for them like hidden treasure
Locked somewhere deep beneath
It's like to unlock them would be a forbidden sin
Come out, Come out, wherever you are
Wherever you are, surely you can't be far?