Every day a new work weighs deeply in my thoughts. It travels through my arm but my pen refuses to write it. Stupid pen! Every day I try a new one, but all refuse, just like the one from the previous day.
Every day a new work weighs heavy in my mind. It travels to my mouth, but the words are never spoken. Stupid mouth! I wish God would give me one that worked when I wanted it to, not just on its own.
My mind computes, my imagination soars. Why, WHY can’t I convey what I feel? When I try to write a note or letter, my pen always twists the words so it does not express what I want it to. In conversation my mouth always works when my brain screams for it to stop, and it tells it all wrong.
I guess it’s just my writer’s block…
Written by l3lacklce