I have a disease
Its name is not that pitiful writers block,
No-its name belongs with the loss of creativity,
I have stolen the little creativity that you may have had,
After all what good did it do you?
Few enjoyed those pitiful poems and stories written by you.
Choose a font,
Oh, this one will do-
No, no creativity is sparked from this one-
Maybe-maybe Aha! This one,
Nope no spark.
This one will have to do.
Words flow from the brain,
Patter, click, patter, click goes the writer,
Banging away at the keyboard and mouse-
Oh no- Revision time comes.
DELETE, DELETE, DELETE.
Bye, bye poem
NEW DOCUMENT
Ah, nothing better than a fresh start.
TIMES NEW ROMAN
If the Romans can do it, so can I
Maybe a feather pen would help?
Get those creative juices flowing?
Nope, birds do not like being plucked of their feathers,
And ink does not hold well in them-
Am I doing it wrong?
Crumples the paper,
NEW DOCUMENT
Tap, tap, tap, tap
Nada, I have no ideas
Anger?
I have done that already
Pain?
That too
Giving up?
I gave up so many times that I don’t want to talk about it
DELETE, DELETE, DELETE
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Okay, so I know that that poem was horrific, but all of my poems turned out angry today. No offense, but for some reason no one likes my angry poems.
