Writer's Block

Once upon a time,
I came face to face,
with a big brick wall.
It loomed over ominously, as wide as it was tall.
Stretching until infinity -
this, my friends, was known as
the ''writer's block''.
Between me and my ideas. It was the walls

Of the safe -  no cracks, nooks or crannies.
No chinks were detected in its steely, secure armour.
Strong, sturdy, impenetrable - it withheld its riches from me.
A shield from my desperate, greedy hands
trembling with the longing for
creativity.
Every effort to prise it open soon turned to vain,
as I looked at my spilt nails sadly.
Why, oh, why wouldn't it let me take a peek?

Searching in the barren landscape - once so fantastically fruitful.
Scrambling in the dust for something - anything useful
to hold. Where did it go? Where could it be?
The fairy gold of creativity - that forever eluded me.

Stuck in a funk of frustration, I grew sick of it all.
I banged my fist against the big brick wall that
imprisoned my mind. I only wanted to be free.
I slumped onto the ground defeated.
Slipping away from my already distant dreams...

Wait - wait a minute?
What was that?
It was tucked away in a corner.
Huddled in a ball.
Shunned by the gardener
whose job was to clean and care.
I suddenly had a realisation -
was it my fault that my land was so bare?

So this was what I did, it was now time to try
I held hope in the palm of my hand - I now had a plan
to break the mould and shatter the ties
restraining me in place. It was now or never
before I would lose these precious poems altogether...

Scribbling furiously on the page, holding onto my hopes tight.
Exactly how I envisioned it, my mind slowly began to whizz and whirr
the words spiralled into sight.
Cogs began to spin,
alliteration forced itself up from within.
Metaphors, similes, sibilance.
I held hope that I could win.

A push. Another push. Just a few more jolts.
A crack, a spindly little crack - I could finally see
the fairy gold that gleamed inside.
Smiling in appreciation, I think I did alright.
At last it was done. I had shattered through
the manacles of my mind.

I had broken down the walls.
Exploded the safe.
Ripped off the chains.
Destroyed the iron bars.

I had finally picked the lock.
Once called
'writer's block'.