Writer's Block

Sitting up late night drinking on that soda pop.

In the dark with the light of the computer screen.

Will I get an idea while smoking probably not.


Deadlines are beating and my door isn't soundly closed.

I type of few sentences and then erase trying not to scream.

If I could write some more, My soul would be definitely sold.


It's like playing a game of simple Tetris.

But as the time increases,The level of stress is build up.

I'm starting to want to bash the screen and say "Fuck this!"


Typing and Writing away into the wee hours of the morning.

I'd light another cigarette but I can't get another flame.

Sitting in front of the machine watching me is boring.


Blocked and I can't move it, it's getting bigger like katamari.

Looking around the apartment, heavy breathes like I was running.

Looks like I can't do this but I don't want to say I'm sorry


This nightly routine is starting to wear on me.

I'm sick  of this  and want to throw a fit

Insomniac and time keeps running it's a.m of Three.  


So a sip of juice and crack of the knuckles as I buckle down.

Determine to make a statement and a few creatives speeches.

I finished and it's time for some sleep now.