My pen has run out of ink,
My pencil has broken lead,
The hole for words in my head has closed up,
And my whole creative side is dead.
There's a huge boulder in my mind,
This is like no block before,
So I'll have to shove that boulder,
And crack the blocking door.
My brain is all mushed up,
Like a squashed little pea.
I just can't find the words to write,
And I'm very busy, you see.
I'm trying to refill my pen,
And sharpen my pencil too.
Make it sharp enough to run,
That evil writer's block through.
So if I come across as unwitting,
Or posting things that are like the same,
You'll know that my writing has been blocked,
And I'm trying to regain it again.
Want to join the conversation? Sign in to leave a comment.