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Created on: April 10, 2009
So much to do,
Yet so little time.
I feel like writing poetry,
Yet I cannot think of a rhyme.
My will to write has become
Overwhelmed
With the desire to succeed;
To entice with words.
The end is crystal clear,
The path, though,
Foggy.
I long for fame and fortune,
But the attempt is dreadfully
Uncertain.
I must strive to be the best,
But I am overtaken by the writer's block curtain.
Learn more about this author, Carla Visocchi.
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