I can’t write for beans, I can’t even talk,
For I have a severe case of writer’s block.
You ask, how I am writing this, then?
Only possible after chucking a million pens,
Pencils, papers, pulling hair, too.
I’m now bald on the right, just to give you a clue.
Oh, foo.
This alone took me twenty minutes to write,
I’m flipping the switch, but my brain has no light.
I tried to get my creative juices flowing,
But so far they only appear to be slowing.
These rhymes are poor, I know, I know!
Well if you don’t like them, then you can just go!
Oh no.
I’m sorry I’m mean, it’s because of my writing.
You see, my left-brain and I are fighting.
It does the thinking while I write it out,
But right now, I’m beginning to have my doubts.
I keep hitting that side to give it a jerk,
I’ve only lost brain cells instead of making it work.
It work.
See what I mean? I’m gone, I’m lost!
Adieu Dickinson, Shakespeare, King, and Frost.
I can’t write for beans, I can’t even talk,
For I have a severe case of writer’s block.
That’s how I came in, that’s how I said “hi,”
I’m no better than how many minutes ago, sixty-five?
Good-bye!
 
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