| Writers block My pen words are fighting to escape from the darkness of the stage in my head. They stumble over the page, the writing meaningless. Like me they want to dance, Show their feelings through their movement And make people happy. Like me they don't want to scratch and strain. They want to flow easily and gracefully. To be pleasing to look on, like me. But neither of us will be released, Until inspiration lights up the dancing floor we are standing so nervously by. |