Why is it so hard to think of poems???

Today I wrote a poem from looking at a picture. My prompt was dark with misty trees, and it made me feel lonely. I used the emotions I felt to create my poem! My poem is set in a boat on a river and I can see feel and hear all of these things - from the knitted jumper to the wailing wind and fishing rod in my fist.

Foggy trees and soggy leaves,
Wrapped in a coat of mist.
Wailing wind and tight knit sleeves,
Hair done in a twist.

Cold dry knees long dark streams,
Hand curled in a fist. 

Use a creese and kill me please,
I am nothing if not a hedonist. 

This poem doesn't have a title.

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