A poem to voice some of the frustrations I’ve been having in trying to get any decent progress made on Book 2. Just a little something to try to get me writing something at least.

Pen to Paper

I’m trying to write

I’m failing though, right?

Every time that I try

I just feel my brain fry.

This is what I want to do

So I just wish that I knew

Why I find it so hard

To put pen to paper

And not feel like a faker.


Am I too tired?

Do I have what’s required?

Is it the depression?

Or a stressful regression?

I’ve proven I can do it

So why can’t I commit?

I’m finding it hard

To put pen to paper

And have it mean more than vapor.


I want to find success

And not have to guess

How to live comfortably

How to live happily

To do the things I love

And work that I’ll be proud of

But it’s hard

To put pen to paper

And that’s the breaker.


But this is something I’ve managed to croon

Pen has been put to paper

It’s been a great labour maker

I hope I manage to do it again soon.