On Writer's Block

After two days of maddening writer's block, I sat down determined to write about writer's block itself. I was inspired by Kid in the Front Row's post about the frustration of what he calls "stuckness." You can read his insightful post here. The eventual result of my contemplation was this poem, which heroically bore a hole through my muddled mind and freed itself of its owner, landing on my blank page.

Word empty and blank full

An imagination interred

 In a sepulcher of white pages

Heavy as marble

And wanting even an epitaph.

This is the tomb of an unknown

Defeated in combat by a shadowy foe

Her language plundered

And her remains shrouded

In disquieting silence.