The Repression of Expression (aka writer's block)

A blank page stares at me

Thoughts tumbling

Bumbling inarticulately

Crumbling before I have

The chance to grasp hold

Unfold the untold

And get a grip

It’s icy cold, stinging my hand

Flinging the sand

My eyes are gritty and blurred

Mumblings slurred

I’m blind and dumb

Thrown in the slums

Tossed like a rag

And squashed like a plum

No one to hear

No one is here but my shadow

But as down goes the sun

So fades my one friend

Resounding my pain, calling my end

My face to the ground

No sound to relieve

No touch to receive on my skin

The sin within clutches and claws

A demon with jaws

Gnawing at my resolve

Finding the strand of a thought

Taking in hand

All I’ve been taught

Fighting and struggling

To reach my own kind

But still no words come to mind