I stare at the empty page in defeat,
Wracking my brain,
Futility in my writing hand,
The quill perspires at the scene,
The paper spits in my eye,
Discontent in its saliva,
It’s a marathon without movement,
No characters or worlds shall be wrought,
The lines on the paper quiver in mockery,
Scribbles in the margin,
It is as if language has become alien to me,
Something I could never control,
It’s defeating me in single combat,
My ambition has become apathy,
I’m not wordsmith,
I’m a pretender,
Foiled by the gravity of this page,
This infernal blank page.
WorldofHarley 
Yes! I can relate. Your words are deeply poignant. Well done.
To write so eloquently about writer’s block is indeed well penned.
It’s a bizarre kind of irony writing about writers block. 😅 Thank you so kindly my friend!
The Oldschool Harlequin
My pleasure, my friend. Peace to you.
I can relate to it. Very well written 🙌
Thank you kindly my friend!
The Oldschool Harlequin
Yep. Very much appreciated, that would be why I spend more time reading other writers’ posts instead of writing myself, lol
I can definitely understand that one. It can be a real blight at times. 😅
The Oldschool Harlequin