I wrote a poem

Something I had to let out for fear of everything being trapped in.

Today I wrote a poem 

But to my dismay 

I had no beginning 

And I had no ending 

Only the core existed 

I sat and I thought I pondered and wondered 

Within my mind I fought 

The words had stopped flowing 

I was without a sentence 

My soul had run dry 

There wasn't even a trickle 

I'd used up my supply

I tried to write without feeling 

Long and hard I thought 

Only a jumbled mess of words 

Came to mind 

Heart wrenching cannot 

Describe the helplessness I felt 

Is this what it's like for those 

Who don't write? 

I hated the feeling 

I hated myself too 

When you write 

Words come from the heart the soul

Never the head

And who was I kidding?

I asked myself

Self-doubt seeping in

A writer I never was 

A writer I'll never be 

A writer I'd never know 

A writer no one will see

With that in mind I moped about 

Brooding over this and that 

Reading other's works 

Thinking words like drat! 

Why couldn't I think of that? 

Why was I not as deep? 

Three lines and five words 

While I needed a sheet?

My poems flowed like lists

Ugly and long 

They all held more talent 

In their pinkies 

Than I in my entire being

It writer's block she told me 

It'll pass he said 

But soon days became weeks 

Body heavy with dread 

My mind filled with horrors 

Sorrow filled my heart 

As tears clouded my eyes 

I looked down at my hands 

No, please no 

I started to cry

What would it be like to never write again 

With empty words flowing from 

The tip of my pen

I'd never forgive myself I said 

An empty shell 

Of slowly decomposing flesh

My body just a vessel 

My spirit wispy and hollow 

Sleep nonexistent 

Life a grand mess 

Happiness a false hope 

I wouldn't be me

I'd never feel that freedom

That rush from the smell of ink 

The scratching sound when paper meets pen 

The thought was unbearable

Then I realized I had a poem 

And here it is nearing its end 

Happy to have something I can write 

To get my feelings in the air 

I don't know 

If I ever knew what normal was

Hopefully I never will

But now I feel I must question 

Everything I knew and know

I pray I will never experience

The nightmare of writer's block again. 

Now my poem has a beginning 

A middle. 

And an end.

Author's Note

I just hope this is the end of it.

Reviews

[SquinklaPsyOps]

Absolutely a master piece, great approach of the subject.

[Meraki]

Thank you!