Writer’s Block by Tirek Williams

There is one thing, you see,
That has often stopped me
From plucking the fruits of poetry.

Writer’s Block,
It has often stopped,
My lucrative train of thought
And from idea to idea,
I’m caught in a fog,
Trapped in a cage of broken monologue.

I love to write
But late at night
Those few lines I have,
I’ve soon fogot.
Yet if not for my tenacity,
Would writer’s block get the best of me.

So I will not cease
Placing pen to pad,
For all it’s worth, I’d rather be dead.
And to my mind, does writing bring peace.
Oh writer’s block,
Thou art a conquered beast.



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