Waiting at the corridor of thought for an inspiration to woo, from an edge to another in the darkest of night. Just to find an ugly story to brighten as news, too weak to tarry for my sleeping inspiration. Night falls too early my eyes are deem. Sleepy yarning as I struggle in thought, like a tossing leaf on the rolling billow, less I stay awake till the first cock crow, inspiration is sleeping, no story no news. Till the new dawn is here I beg to sleep, resting my lenses for the new day challenge, good night friends here I gat to sleep. No story no news, a brother is sleeping. Scour the news for an entirely uninteresting story. Consider how it connects to your life. Write about that.