My scrambled thoughts like jigsaw bits
All scattered, disarrayed,
A tangled mess where nothing fits
My thinkingís stalled; Iíve drained my wits;
Canít pass this brain blockade.
I try to fit a missing piece
And dislocate the rest,
Then as my angst and ire increase
Creative juices quickly cease;
My zeal has lost its zest.
Itís time to find a new pursuit
Iíve had my fill of wordsó
My mindís made up, itís absolute
Iím going to take another route
Leave rhythm to the birds.
I go to bed, my mind at ease
Content I have control
I try to sleep but clicking keys
Invade my dreams with rhymes that tease
And aggravate my soul.
I toss and turn as words abound,
Then click!! The word that fitsó
My feet take flight, donít touch the ground
The keyboard clicks with zest new-foundó
What writer ever quits!
For writerís block thereís no relief
Except the click of keys
And though at times thereís pain and grief
The problem is severe but briefó
A (key)urable disease.
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