Ideas in my mind. 

Ideas floating around. 

Trying to breathe, to reach the surface, 

like a contestant in a competition just trying to win. 

Trying to figure out how to stand out in a pool of submissions. 

Ideas. 

That’s it, a good idea. 

One to win. 

A poem, yes a good poem. 

A poem about what? 

Cars, no, too simple. 

The purpose of life, no, would take too long. 

What then? 

Something that needs to be complicated, 

but not so complicated that it wouldn’t be explainable. 

Nothing in my head,

Thoughts come to a complete halt.

I know exactly what I am looking for,

Yet I have now way of finding it.

A search, never ending.

A search to be the best, to write the best,

To keep up an appearance, to stay on top.

To catch up where you feel behind,

To live up to everything that is expected of you,

To reach, but to fall short again and again and,

To fall.

All of the things in my head, wrapping around and around.

Yet there is still nothing.

Ideas, no, just one.

Idea.