Writer’s Block

He’s like an empty desert,
Straight and without features.
He’s like a rock concert
Where the band ain’t so sure
Whether music shall roam,
Or they will just go home.

He’s like a night of clouds,
No more beautiful stars.
He’s like a big, big crowd,
Faceless and source of SARS.
I wonder how he lives,
But she will surely leave.

He’s the being she can see
When she can’t write any;
There’s no future in he.

Unless she says goodbye
Like a sudden sunrise.
Her life will not pass by
With no words of the wise
When infatuation
Goes to inspiration.


One thought on “Writer’s Block

  1. Pingback: Kind of an ‘About Me’ Post | Story in the Making

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