Writer’s block

I’ve been sitting here two hours now

and not put pen to paper.

I just keep staring into space,

perhaps I’ll do it later.

But sadly there’s a deadline,

a time-target to meet.

I cannot do this later

so I can’t admit defeat.

I can see the clock beside me

and the seconds ticking by

A minute lasts a second

and I’m watching each one fly.

This is simply getting harder

and all I feel is tense.

There are words inside my head

but they simply won’t make sense.

They float around the room

in a disorganised fashion.

Where oh where are inspiration,

wordsmith’s tricks, or passion?

All have just abandoned me

and left me full of dread,

so it’s back into the kitchen

collect chocolates, wine……then, bed!

 

 

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