Writer's Block
As I sit down to write for you…
To express,
To impress,
my body tenses,
hyperbolic shock,
metaphorical lock,
placed firmly on my heart.
Feeling down,
but looking up
It will come to me
surely it will,
like so many times before
when my ink spilled
onto the pages of my soul
and was reiterated onto paper.
It’s just not coming . . .
Poetry is my life.
As I sit down to write for you;
but fail instead,
at this moment in time I cease to exist...
Cease. To. Exist.
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