At least once each year, I hit a point where I can’t think of a single thing to write about. This invariably leads to something like the following.

On Writer’s Block

Another day has come and gone,

And here I sit once more.

With keyboard and an empty head,

I’ve been through this before.

 

There is no verse inside my head,

No trick to make this right.

I greatly fear the truth is there,

Shall be no post tonight.

 

I could resort to tricks of old,

Write that I cannot rhyme.

That would be cheating I suppose,

But still there is the time.

 

In thirty minutes give or take,

Tomorrow will begin.

And then with two to write, my God,

The mess I will be in.

 

So for tonight, this boilerplate,

Of simple thoughtless rhymes.

And then to sleep and hope the dawn,

Brings more productive times.

 

Cheers, Winston