Writer’s block 2015

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No chip on my shoulder
It’s more of a writer’s block
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder
But what if my art is in shock?

I’ve been blessed with the martial art of the pen/
A high level disciple, not yet master
But I can’t find where my lyrical form should begin/
Not being able to express oneself should be a sin/

For years now I’ve bled ink
Creating universes with only the muscles in my hand/
Or penning verses colder than an Olympic ice rink/
With written media, on top is where I stand/

All this power literally in my fingertips/
Yet I can’t write
My creativity is off on one of its trips
Leaving my to ponder how to stop my writers block with all my might/

Poetic Ice

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