My mind is blank.
I stare at the screen
The blinking cursor stares back at me.
Why can't I think of anything?
Why is this so hard?
I know the direction I want to take
But it's hard finding the right words.
I guess maybe I was kidding myself
Thinking I could write well.
As I stare at the blank screen before me
The realization hits home
That maybe this isn't what I'm suppose to do.
So many good ideas
So little time
So little patience to type what I need to.
The cursor taunts me.
Calling me out and
Challenging me to begin typing.
And so I do.
At first the words don't make sense
But then again neither does the world.
Then it begins to flow
And low and behold a story is born.
From the depths of my mind
Through the tips of my fingers
The writer's block has lifted.