By Morgan Hixson
February 21, 2019
He sat down at his desk to write
Whatever came to mind
Then looked around for inspiration
He could not seem to find
No ideas merely frustration
At the blinking line
The page remained quite blank and bright
And his teeth began to grind
He had met this curse of writer’s block
Far too many times before
Yet every time it reared its head
Found him shaken to his core
Too often had he gone to bed
His mind an empty store
As if he’d lost the key which fit the lock
To creativity’s door
Ready to give in once again
To misery and despair
A ray of hope made its way
Into the musky air
And now he knew what he was to say
The writer’s block which made life so unfair
Could be written off by his hand
With that he beat his nemesis and at last cleared the air
The opinions expressed are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect those of Infuse Student Media or Southwest Baptist University.
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