Writer's Block

May 18, 2010
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The white spaces seem to taunt me
With thir blue lines horizontal
And single red running vertically
The paper itself ridicules me
Filling my mind with doubt of my ability
Suddenly, I forget my inspiration
Words I had locked in my head drift away
And I am left staring blankly at the page
I rack my brain, trying to trigger the memory
I receive a piece from wherever lost thoughts go
And hurry to put it down before lost-indefinably
My hand shakes as I write the first word
Questioning every stroke of my pen
Every other line is a complete failure
The others, I’m sure are god
As I continue, my mind pouring over the page
I feel my level of confidence rising
My pen strokes fall into a pattern
And I am able to focus on the small characters
Being printed across the page
With their blue color, flowing from my pen
A smile finds its home on my face
As the pen continues to dance about the lines
That once horrified me
And I am in my tranquil place again
Where the page is my ground
And with my pen I give life to the sky
I create every aspect as I’ve dreamt it to be
Nothing more to fear, only safe place of my being
I am once again happy, content with the world
A poem I have finished
And with a final word
I bring it to the

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