December 13, 2012
By Anonymous

I’m trying to think of a word
But the environment around me won’t permit.
My mind goes blank as I pause
To reconsider what I wish to discover.
I try to clear my mind,
But it eludes me as I search,
Like its running off to a more satisfying place
Than on a sheet of paper
Where it will be likely lost in a black abyss
Of attempted tries,
Successful failures,
And works of forgotten days.
But no, I want something that lasts,
Something different,
I thought of something new, but old.
It sounds like anything, then everything, then nothing.
Lost again.
Interest flows around me
As I struggle to finish each thought.
Nothing to say.
Nothing on mind.
Yet I must try to go on.
The word is now all but lost,
Laughing at me as I try to snatch it up
In the torn fragments of my warring mind.
The noise of sharpening blades and trampling feet
March their way to battle.
And when the sides meet,
Filling the borders with black and white,
And chaos,
It ultimately leads to,
Absolutely nothing.
I give up.
If a mental war can’t produce,
Nothing can.
The only thing left in my mind.
Writer’s block.

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