If there’s nothing else to write about,
you can always write about
there being nothing to write about.
Poems. Poems. Poems.
Flowing through my brain,
Turning round the bends and curls,
Getting stuck again.
Blocking. Blocking. Blocking.
The creative thread has snapped.
Try to burst the brain-tube dam
When creativeness is sapped.
Writing. Writing. Writing.
About what’s on my mind:
Writer’s block and poetry
Is the subject that you’ll find.
Reading. Reading. Reading.
Through the lines of verse.
We all know what you’re thinking,
Could this get any worse?