Writer’s Block
Alone at night and I’m thrown into a competition.
The blank paper proves I can’t find the ignition.
My mind aimlessly races between many thoughts.
I pray one of them might entangle the knots.
The clock mocks me as I watch another minute fade.
It’s a battle which I can never evade.
Even when I lie to sleep,
This seemingly invincible problem can still creep.
A mind at rest but also insatiably stirred,
Giving me no ideas worth a word.
Yet if I rip the white page and quit,
I’ll remain trapped in this inane pit,
Where nothing can connect or grow.
Another minute; the time fast and my pen slow.
Grab the sword and produce one thing black.
With that first line, we’ll lead our attack.
One after the other, now we are started!
Moving quickly along the page, our progress is uncharted.
That was the trick: don’t wait but do.
For remaining idle won’t link thoughts to a clue.
This process isn’t a fight with time,
But with myself to take a step in the climb.
Check my profile for more poetry — thank you!
