Creative Block...

Staring at the blinking cursor,
My mind begins to play it’s game,
Thoughts swell and my imagination wearies,
To find some sort of… bane.

Bane? Really?
Is that the best that I can do?
Self-persecution comes to call,
And I become ever so bleary.

Finally my fingers graze the keys,
As I begin to gape in awe.
That perhaps creativity is still there,
…But maybe that’s just my theory.

Haha, I love it. Especially, "Bane? Really?" I think a lot of people have that trouble. It's so true about writer's block. You really have to be really creative to try to write about the horrible writer's block. Good job, I enjoyed this, even if it is rather short. The last line really made me smile. Though I would have used or instead of but there.

hahaha nice write!!
and that while your having writers block!!

Hello!

At first I had doubts about this poem, but when I had finished reading it, I was just like: "Oh, damn!" I really like this poem. It definitely captures that true frustrating essence of Writer's Block. It was basically like reading through a book of my own thoughts as I would think of the exact same thing when I wouldn't be able to write. My favourite verse was the opening.

Staring at the blinking cursor

I hope you keep posting great poems like this! I shall be following you for more

Regards,
Thien

Staring at the blinking cursor,
My mind begins to play it’s game, Doesn't flow well with the last line. Seems detached. Also, "it's" should be "its."
Thoughts swell and my imagination wearies, Get rid of "my."
To find some sort of… bane.
Rhyme scheme: ABCB
Bane? Really?
Is that the best that I can do? Naw. Could be better.
Self-persecution comes to call,
And I become ever so bleary.
Rhyme scheme: ABCA
Finally my fingers graze the keys,
As I begin to gape in awe. What? This doesn't really fit.
That perhaps creativity is still there,Get rid of "that."
…But maybe that’s just my theory. "Theory" isn't the right word.
Rhyme scheme: ABCA

You really need to standardize the rhyme scheme.

Hope your writer's block lifts soon.

-Kafka