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Writers Block
The tip of your tongue is hard to find
You search and seek and stumble to rhyme
The page is blank and stays that way
Your poets wings begin to fade
There's not a single word in stock
You're sick indeed with writers block
Though try and try you can't be freed
There's nothing there for us to read
So put a bandage on your pen
Tomorrow try your verse again
By: Kyle Ezra Kriticos
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