The Bare Necessities

Dear Writers Block

Dear writers block,

I am seriously sick of your company. Let's see I have an essay due tomorrow and I have to write this poem. And you're stuck on me like unwanted gum on my shoe.

You and your best friend procrastination have stopped me in my tracks. Like being stuck in traffic on a Friday night when I just want to go home and sleep.

Your presence has been the worst thing that has ever happened to my writing. And you are no longer welcome here. You're an unwanted intruder that eats all of my food..well, at least my procrastination appetite does.

Writers block you're like error 404 preventing me from finding the pages I need to fill.
You're like a roommate that parties too hard while I'm trying to write for finals.
You're like...trying to start a fire in prehistoric ages. Constantly pushing myself with the friction of frustration but not having a breeze of ideas to ignite the flames.

It's either my thoughts are dry and bland, or a combustion of man and his ideals trying to write a decent poem. But too many things are happening at once and I can't think.

Writers block you're like..uh..uh crap. Damn it I was on a roll. Roll..I could use sandwich right about now..wait focus. Off topic Grace. Where was I? Right okay, writers block you're hanging on me like a leaf to a tree.
I've torn out countless pages enough to chop down archers or forestry. Of course I'm joking and wildfires are smoking.
As the black thick wall, clouds my thoughts and clogs my creativity.
As the trees aren't there to filter our carbon and fire is inhailing our oxygen.
You writers block have suffocated me with the deprivation of ideas and morals. You've driven me to take myself out of the fire of frustration and into the ruins of your aftermath.

The flames have died down and
Upon the smolder, ash and timber. I'll be walking through the withering woods, trying to get over my break up with you.

Writers block.