Writers block, oh writers block,
I have so much hate for you,
For whenever I am writing,
An idea I try to pursue.
But when you, little writers block,
Creep up upon my brain,
My mind cramps up, the typing stops,
And I am filled with pain.
The blank document in front of me,
Is taunting for a story to unfold,
But when you come Mr. Writers block,
My ideas turn to mold.
So here I am, sitting here, waiting for inspiration,
Suddenly, ding; there goes my mind,
But then comes frustration.
You little thief,
You little crook,
You pick pocketed my brain.
My idea now is gone.
I think I’m going INSANE!