There’s a block inside my mind,
And it’s very hard to find,
The reason that it persists,
That it keeps my mind on hold,
Blocks me from the wonderful gold,
The things I could think of,
The ways I could write,
It just might,
Disappear,
The block inside my head,
It reaches to the gold, and snatches it away,
But maybe can crush it like clay,
And play,
With the gold,
And create a poem,
And show ‘em
That I can write,
That I can take flight,
And hope the block will disappear for good,
Like it should.
