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.