There I stood, looking up
to a towering wall of hopelessness.
Stone and dirt rose above me,
diminishing all but a glimpse of light.
I was trapped in the dark,
confused and steaming with frustration.
My faith quickly Bean to slip,
until I spotted something.
A knotted twine, frayed at the ends
draped over the wall.
Gently swaying in the breeze,
it was the perfect escape!
As I reached upward,
my trembling hand just barely missed.
Frustration flooded back
while its waves crashed into the wall.
Not even the malevolent crests could help me then.
My back to the wall I had finally given in,
accepted the loss that resided within.
Writer's block had claimed it's trophy,
leaving me with nothing to turn in.

Dear Writer's Block,
Please suck my clock.
Sincerely,
I hate you!