Blockhead.

I’ve hit it.
I stubbed my toe.
My knee is bruised.
My nose may be broken.
My mind is blank.
I hit writer’s block.

What’s on the other side?
I bet it’s something wonderful,
With imagery and iambic pentameter, and
Descriptive language that disguises reality.
I bet there are kittens and babies…
And maybe, maybe I ought to just go to bed.

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