Writers Block

Nothing left to write, Something is just not right I wait inside a conscience state These words taunting me; Once again caught by their inerasable bait Searching for an external inspiration, One revealed without the slightest sense of hesitation There is nothing here but confusion, Like waiting on a train at the station, Without a schedule, there’s an uneasy sensation Still the rider must get to their final destination Just as the writer can’t wait on an explanatory factor, To explain the cause, for this pause Writers block is a dangerous place, For a writer it can set a disaster pace On a road were thoughts are sure to be erased, Words cannot be replaced, When placed by grace To make a smile come upon your face For that, a true writer has no disgrace