Writer’s block is the worst
When you’ve got it all to say
It’s at its worst
When she’s left you out to dry
She’s the one
Keeping your love at bay
What else is there to do
There’s not much more to try

You’ve left for me to create
From this blank slate
Too irate to belate
This lowly sickened state

Her love is gone
From your life she has leapt
Nothing but lies
Have spewed from her lips
From you, her love she always kept
You’re amassing sores from all her whips

If I could write something
What would I write
I’d write the words to bring my truest love
The one most made for me
She who could entangle my heart
Yet still leave it to breathe
To focus in my brain
For her to never leave
We’d leave it still, like the water
Looking out, wishing never to escape

We’d disturb the water, ’til it became ever so violent
To cleanse our minds like raging currents
‘Cause only then will we be free
Our minds free, leaving us to be
Ever positive, enthralled with it, embalmed in it
I’m in love with this; in love (with this)

But this page still lies blank
The last one left untouched
This single last canvas
It’s been left unbrushed

So I’ll put this pen to paper
If only to see what comes of it
To see if I can become the shaper
Of that which brings me above this

We’ll see if the words escape
With purpose to take shape
Like some masterpiece
To leave this all in the breeze at peace