Writers Block

Man, today I got the ughs.
And not just today,
But a couple of them now.
And I don’t want to socialize
And you know I’m not feeling good
If I don’t even want to crack wise.
I think of the ancients who related all our moods
To the movement of stars, the sun and the moon.
And I wish I knew what it was that is bugging me,
But I can’t put my finger on it, for the life of me.
So today I have to accept that I have a case of the ughs,
And I wish I could say it’s astrologically bound.
But to me that’s a theory that’s just unsound.
Today, the well has run dry and I don’t know why.
Maybe cuz I got no reasons to moan or cry.
Seems I need to be hurting for my pen to flow,
Or I need to dwell in the past of things I have yet to let go.
I guess I’ll just go somewhere and let things stew,
And then get back to work, and start tomorrow anew.
But it bugs the crap out of me, when I can’t divest.
So I guess I just got something I still need to digest.
It’s the opposite curse of being so driven,
When I can give back what I have been given.
So may tomorrow I wake up bubbling with words,
With just enough of the pronouns, adjectives and verbs.
Till then, I got my heart and head in a can.
I know, I’ll get through this block the best that I can.

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