Stepped outside the Big White Room

Closed the door behind me

Needing to see where I belong,

Trying to feel familiarity.

Writer’s block is brutal

-A stab in the back from loyalty.

Needless to say I lost myself

Trampled by a monotonous society.

I sigh--

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The words don't flow as they used to

The lines don't form as well

My mind seems stuck in idle

Awaiting thoughts to swell

Each day I live, I see so much

It should inspire something

Yet when I sit to write it out

My brain comes up with nothing

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When you get writer's block
go for a walk

find a friend 
have a talk

blow bubbles
spin a top

count stars
watch birds flock

whatever you do 

don't stare 
at a blank page

as the clock
goes tick-tock. 
 

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Swimming in cycles, I pattern an air;

dash, cross, the mimes of meeting,

they are a crime and I am a road-side

mottled hard, cracked paving,

the worse for wear, but a red light

lights my eye and guides my thought,

a spark in a second, a buzzing phone.

I throw out dust and paper, reels of film

sun-baked, reeling, cracked,

replace with seconds from the fountain,

hiding ...

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