Writer's Block
I feel exhausted, tired
And yet the poem's not what's desired
Certainty replaced by doubt;
My inspiration's running out.
What I feel... is not elation
But sheer stress and consternation.
Oh! These thoughts will drive me mad;
I shall fail, and that is sad!
Words and phrases, flow and rhyme
Pile up, but there's no more time.
Sweat is trickling, blood is boiling...
Eyes dry out as I am toiling.
People say "Just make it brief!
It would be a big relief."
How? No words come to my mind,
No pretty pictures can I find!
Alas! My brain has turned to putty...
My manuscript is wrinkled... blotty.
YOU ARE READING
Read my Heart - A Collection of Poetry
PoesíaThis is partly a journal and partly a literary endeavor. Herein, between the covers lie all of my dreams and art: my tales of friends and lovers. If you please, oh! Read my heart!
