Writer’s Block

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When I think of writer’s block,
I think of a prison cell.
5 foot square with white walls
Filled to the brim with clichés.
I am on death row.
Waiting for a jolt of creativity.

When I think of writer’s block,
I think of a neighborhood.
With identical houses.
Filled with the uninspired.
I am at the bus stop.
Trying to leave the monotony behind.

When I think of writer’s block,
I think what I don’t want.
I think of me.





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