Tuesday, October 11, 2016


I hate when I'm in this position
A position that I cannot move from 
I can see myself moving, I think that's called an out of body experience 
But yet, I sit still, my hands don't move and neither does my pen 
I have so much to say 
So much to talk about
I have a way to vent 
But yet, I cannot let it out 
Why? I don't know
I think I'm stuck in another dimension 
One that creatives hate it's called "Writers Block" 
Then I think of the phrase by Charles Bukowski
"writing about writers bock is better than not writing at all" 
I guess that's what this poem is about
I have writers block 
I have a synopsis
I have a table of contents
But yet, I cannot fill in the spaces
I guess the block is needed 
God does do everything for a reason 
So instead of stressing about my novel tragedies 
I will use this time to reflect on 

No comments: