Writer's Block: A Complaint
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I do not like to write
Those countless days and Nights spent in agony
Staring at the screen
Blank and white
Figuring out what to type
Chasing half-formed
Thoughts in the mind
Once caught
They disappear
Like dry ice
On an abyssmally hot day
Only to reappear again
Like mirages in the
Desert sands
Leaving me in gloom.
A wonderful, marvelous
Idea will come to me soon
I repeatedly mutter to myself
As I frantically pace the room
Then it hits me like a brick
Fills me with raptures sublime
I type the thought down
Pause
Read it
Discontent I erase
the few words written
Crash
Burn
My mind in a blur.