Writer's Block

My mind goes blank,

This feels like a terrible prank.

I want, I desire,

But within me there is no more fire.

I want to let my thoughts flow from my mind to the screen,

But my creative mind was wiped clean.

Rhymes don’t come as easily,

And if they do, they are slant and measly.

I wish there was a way

To get this grey fog to go, go away,

But I guess for now it is here to stay.

It clouds my mind like ashes and smoke,

 And my mind starts to choke.

So until this fog disappears,

I guess I’ll just wait for however many years.