In the deepening shadows of the early evening,

A dispiriting apathy keeps me from relinquishing

The seat at my desk to switch on a light.

The lack of illumination seems symbolic

Of my own lack of inspiration,

As creative juices appear to have dried up,

And the blank page stares accusingly back at me.

I consider ways to kick start the business of writing.

My chosen topic has failed to spark stimulation

Of my seemingly moribund mental faculties.

I ponder previously successful strategies to ignite my pen,

And energise my elusive motivation, but to no avail.

With regret, I come to the inescapable conclusion

That the sole course of action appropriate to these circumstances

Is to seek solace in the nearest available hostelry.