Tristan Robert Lange

The Write Fright

O my, O my, what an absolute fright,

I am stuck here with pencil and paper,

Yet, I find I have not one thing to write

And all cool thoughts went up like vapor.

This is, you must know, a poet’s worst fear,

And always at such a bad time as this,

That the muse and the words all disappear

And strip the poor artist of any bliss.

O friend, dearest friend, what should I now do?

I haven’t anything real to here say,

It has left my creativity blue

And longing for a more productive day.

This, right now, I do pray my dearest friend,

That this writer’s block ain’t a rising trend.

© 2024 Tristan Robert Lange. All rights reserved.