Hole in my plot

Lets write a book

how hard can it be, 

it's all words we learned

In a clever assembly

So I sit down to write

imagination is firing

I fill up a journal

with barely readable writing

I sit at my desk

the cursor is blinking

"Hmm" 

The start needs some thinking

What's on twitter

What's in the news

A day passes by

My cursor winks like it knew

So I'm Reading the masters

other published works too,

I'm writing in ink pen,

 filling notebooks, 

Scrap paper,

I'm writing flash fiction

 on the wall of the loo.

I'm Writing on twitter,

fixing my blog, 

Some writers write books

 while stroking their dog,

Cats asleep on the lap

Fresh coffee in the pot

I think there's a hole in my plot

Find your voice

The promise of a better life

Should be incentive enough

But what if your current one

Holds you back, and stops your runs

You are plagued with insecurities

About the words that you play

Always jealous; looking at someone else

Then you've lost another day

You spend hours wrestling procrastination

Pulling your hair, fighting your mind

Wondering why the page is still blank

Failure blamed on distractions still undefined

You've spent hours scrolling your timelines

As your inspiration further wanes

Your desire to create that work of art

Is getting lost in the mist of rage 

So you lash out at those closest

As another days work is lost

This lack of work though troubling 

Comes at a personal mental cost

You crawl back inside yourself

shut away, where no one can see

As your distractions begin to fall away

You find your voice, find poetry.