The Weight of Writer's Block

The feeling, the weight, overcomes my chest,

I'm holding the damn sky with my fingers.

Pangs of guilt and tears of failure threaten,

Well, they threaten to create a mood so dismal...

So blank.

And I black out, no wonder.

So waking, looking at the sad, empty wall before me?

Those tears before come rushing back,

Tempting my eyes with their sneers.

Yes, so frightening, hm?

Sarcasm killed the cat, not curiosity, Watson.

Learn the words, write them, in any order you please.

Grasp that paper, the parchment, the composition,

And trash it.

Vomit, sob, but yes, let the garbage take its wealths.

I don't see you as worthy.

Reviews

[Sigyn]

This really explains how the mind works when writing doesn't. I enjoy this. It speaks truth and passion, plus pain and hurt. I didn't expect this from the he title 'The Weight of Writer's Block' but this sure is something unexplainable.