Writer’s Block
i have something to say i convince myself as i stare upon the empty page
i have a voice that carries love and hope and disappointment and rage
i have stories to tell unlike anyone else i think as the ink in my pen's running dry
i can say something anything if i just try and try and try
if i could just fill this page this one piece of paper that's defying my endless mind
i have a head filled with words and the words are as follows ...never mind
but i have something to say i must have how else am i going to fill
this white sheet and the rest of my life if words won't come as i will
what else am i if not the poems i write or the fragments of novels to end
if not my abandoned notebooks collecting dust but not ink what am i if not my pretend
my elaborate tales of fairies and kings and the truth i'm too scared to make real
all the pages i hide behind that only exits because i dare myself to feel
i have something to say i order myself putting the pen into motion at last
and with the first squiggly letter the rest starts to follow the spell is finally cast
i have stories to tell and i will tell them now i think as the words find their way
but then the pen stops as i get overwhelmed with all that i have to say
