Embody pen and paper bare, as
Not a lonesome word escapes this
Shallow mind, this empty plate.
Vitriolic as it seems, my
Ample thoughts are now just steam,
Carelessly in the air, dispersing,
Underneath my breath's own cursing.
Unable to now end this rhyme, I
Shall complete it soon, in time.
Just something small that describe my feelings now. Why not write a poem about...writer's block??? I seriously took longer than expected for this. Especially the last two lines. Damned writer's block. Stupid, stupid, stupid writer's block.
Oh and it's also an acrostic...if you care at all
