So once again, I found myself unable to come up with an idea for today’s poem. So I went with the classic approach and decided to write what I know.  In this case, writer’s block.

Creative Block

I love to sketch or paint or write,

express myself in verse.

So when I have creative block,

it truly is a curse.

And every line I try to craft,

becomes worse than the last.

There is no peace, there is no rest,

’til this affliction’s passed.

And so I struggle and I strive,

and still set pen to page.

There is no joy there to be found,

can’t give in to my rage.

But now this verse, at last is here,

the tide begins to turn.

Creative juice begins to flow,

that high for which I yearn.

 

Cheers, Winston