I wrote this poem, appropriately, as I was procrastinating on my English essay. I couldn’t think of a single thing to say, so I fought my case of writer’s block by writing. This poem was the result. I hope you enjoy!
I put the pencildown,pick it up, put itdown.Thepanicstarts.Why isn’t this easy?Why, oh why, am Istruggling?Ablankpiece of paperwas once a friend, butit is now myworstnightmare.Every time I picked up a pen, thewords would flowout of me,cascading out ofmy heart andspilling out of mysoul, splattering beautyacross the page,scattering thehorridbrightblankwhitenessand creating somethinglovelyin its place.It was onceso easy to dispel, butnow,as I am staringdownat the paper,its blinding brightnessburns into my eyelids andhaltsmy imagination.Oh, imagination, creativity,why have youforsaken me?Why have you left medevoid of inspiration,deprived of ideas,drained of dreams?Why have you left me grapplingin the darkness,searching for a light thathas beenputout,shrouded in thedarknessof abarrenbrain?But a small voice inside my headtells me to pick upa pen, andthough I amdrainedof all inspiration,I reach for it andbegin to write,knowing that with eachstroke of the pen, with eachword,I am fighting that horribledeadly beast known aswriter’s block.So there. I amunstuck! I justwrotea poem.