Writers' Block

June 19, 2013

That blank, white page Staring at me, mocking me Restricting as a cage That plain, pure page I wait for a symphony, For the poem of the age That clear, bare page I bang my head against the desk, And then I quit from rage.

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Comments (1)

68thmoonofjupiterJun 19, 2013

I hate being told to sit down and "write something". So I did. I sat down and wrote about how I can't write on command.