This very short poem is sort of a parallel to the poem “White World” I wrote awhile ago, a quick look at the second form of writer’s block that I have to deal with. I’m not sure how many other people get this variety of writer’s block, but it can be just as annoying as not having any ideas to write in my experience.
Anyways, enjoy the read,
They blot out the sun as they dart and dance,
Movement to the chorus of countless words.
Too many ideas can be just as bad as none at all,
They all clamor for my attention but they don’t slow down.
It’s hard to write a story when the words won’t hold still.