'' My Writers Block '' Poem by Bri Mar

Cards on the table,
I feel ready and able,
Yet something is playing with my mind,
It doesn't have a label,
It's akin to a fable,
Yet it feels as if I've gone blind.

I feel despair,
The words are there,
For the life of me, I can't make them flow,
Though it's not rare,
It's very unfair,
In reality it makes me feel low.

To reassure,
I search for a cure,
Though it can't be resolved with a pill,
What's hard to endure,
Is it does obscure,
What it is, I'm trying to instil.

It's so dismaying,
I've even tried praying,
But my pleas, to date he's ignored,
He isn't swaying,
I'm still surveying,
Every avenue, I know's been explored.

It's difficult to see,
But it can't just be me,
Not that this helps with my quest,
Please someone agree,
Help set me free,
I am feeling totally distressed.

Then someone shouts, time,
It feels so sublime,
My nightmare begins to unlock,
Soon in my prime,
I complete a new rhyme,
I've titled it,

‘' My Writers Block ‘'