How my writing is going..

It’s staring at me,

The blank screen,

Mocking me with it’s empty gaze

I type a letter, two, maybe three,

Followed swiftly by

Delete, delete, delete.

 

My mind reflects the page

Curiously blank,

Half an hour ago It was full of glorious ideas,

when I was out,

Shopping..

 

But not now,

No now it is the calmest sea,

Not a ripple of thought to disturb it’s surface.

 

I pick up a pen,

Some paper,

And write three words, a sentence,

Then slowly painfully cross them out.

Deep gouges tear the page

 

Writing is easy,

They say.

I suspect, somehow,

They are lying.

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