The Phantom known as writers block, is stalking through my mind,
Passing time by killing dreams, and leaving doubts to find.
Smearing words across my page with damaging intent,
Destroying inspiration from the words that I was sent.
The Phantom thrives on disbelief, dishonesty and drool,
If something’s not worth writing, he will break you like a fool.
Until the time of which your heart is free to open up,
When the Phantom will be banished like the storm within your cup.
The Phantom, many of a time, has left me dark and cold,
Still searching for the rainbow, I could follow to the gold.
The art of writing is of course, a sparely given gift,
The self acceptance Phantom, is another cloud to shift.
His sisters and his brothers, Phantoms of our own creating,
Of Fear and Hesitation, Reservations and Self-hating,
Do all assist to quash our muse and leave us without writing,
But they can’t win, as long as writers everywhere…are fighting.
Author notes
lol
A contest entry
- A Cure For Writer's Block? by trista.
450 points, ended November 9, 2007, 23 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
I was surprised that this read so well with the longer lines, which I often don't like unless it's in strict meter. Great imagery, and definitely a poem I can relate to. Thankfully my muse is cooperating a little bit more than it was before, and I too will keep "fighting".
Thank you for your entry, and good luck in the contest.
~J. -
kewl this poem is amazing. love the rhyming of this piece i really liked it. good luck in the contest.
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