A WRITER’S BLOCK

Stuck in the middle of a piece of writing
Like a lost donkey enduring the pain
Of immobility
The blank white skinny paper evolves
Into an enemy
Wrestling with an angry ink never wanting
To give up
It’s a lonely bright sunny day
When the sun display its brilliance
Scorching the knowledge out of my mind
My shadow reflects upon the earth.
There’s this poem I’ve ever wanted to write
There’s this poem I’ve never ever completed
There before me is a pool of drought
I dare not enter.