Poppycock (A Poem)

Here I am, bamboozled* again
Can’t write a word, which is a real pain
I’ve been thinking a lot but getting nowhere
So frustrating when I wanted to share

Not been that long since I was last in this place
Embarrassed, I’m dumb with a frown on my face
Why am I writing this meaningless rhyme?
Watching the clock as it ticks away time

Perhaps, I’d be better to take a short break
A mug of tea and a piece of fruit cake
Waiting patiently for my muse to appear
D’you think I should call out an engineer?

Maybe, I should consult the town’s quack*
It won’t take me long to get there and back
Will he give me a pep talk or give me a drug?
Don’t know what to do, as my shoulders shrug

Why, when this happens, do I feel such shame
As eventually, I produce something again
Whether it’s worthy or whether its trash
I wonder if it’s just balderdash*

Dare I say yet again; I’ve got writer’s block
It’s happened before; writing poppycock*
Why is it so tough to be a good writer?
I refuse to give up; I’m known as a fighter.

*bamboozled – a slang word for puzzled, confused

*quack – a slang word for doctor

*balderdash – a slang word for rubbish

*poppycock – a slang word for nonsense

Photo by 傅甬 华 on Unsplash