typing out my soul | poetry book

Writer's Block

I look at the blank page,

My imagination in a cage.

I stare at the cursor blinking,

Chains block my thinking.

Type a sentence then delete,

Almost accept defeat.

Rack my brain,

Let my mind wander in the rain.

Walk around the room,

Pray for an idea to come soon.

Sit and stare at the screen,

Resist the urge to scream.

Then I feel a spark,

My saviour in the dark.

I wonder: could it work as a tale?

Would it succeed or would it fail?

If I type this story,

Would I feel sorry?

Sure, it's not cliché,

But would it sound okay?

So I decide,

I'll write the tale with pride.

Finally, a relatable story,

About a writer's purgatory.