I am sitting at my desk
Thinking about what to write
There is so much to write about,
How do I choose?

I could write about joy
I could write about sadness
I could write about ideas
No, I need to write something new.

There are so many things
To do today
The last thing I want
Is to sit and write.

Why do I write?
Because I always thought
It would be quick,
But it isn’t.

It takes hours and hours
Of brainstorming
And agitated backspacing
That makes me want to give up.

No one sees what goes
Into the writing,
They only see
What comes out.

If only people
Could see inside my head
Then they would know
How much work I actually do.

They would see
A locked crate
Full of ideas
That I can never seem to reach.

When I get close
It just disappears
Only to reappear
Farther away.

As I chase the crates
More and more obstacles
Appear to try and stop me,
But in the end I am the victor.

I grab the crate
And pry it open.
An idea is fueled,
So I can write.