Writer's Block

Breaking through that wall....

I don't know how to flow with this so I'll just let it fly,
there're things inside my heart and mind; I just can't let em die,
the entities that wanna kill me; f**k it let 'em try,
I'll play like Dr. Dre with all my chips and let it ride.

I'm goin through this writer's block and it aint nothin nice,
the pen rolls in my fingers like a gambler strums the dice,
the realization that I've done like nothin with my life,
the world is full of men like Lenny who're the stuff of mice.

The time has come to break through every wall that holds me back,
there's one time I remember when my uncle told me that,
"to get to where you're callin shots; caressin golden stacks,
don't let a damn thing beat you; be the one who holds the bat."

My slugger hails from Louisville which isn't down the hall,
I'll swing with all my might until this bat breaks down the wall,
obstructing all the creativity that's large or small,
'til every brick is pebbles or somebody calls the law.

It may not make much sense I know; it really all depends,
but these words aren't really for most folks to comprehend,
cause everybody speculates regardless of the facts,
I'll break this block and I'll be back as heartless as that bat.

©2013
The Cunning Linguist

Author's Note

Between May 2012 and March 2013 I wrote absolutely nothing. In addition to some personal tribulations, my creative brain just couldn't respond to anything. This piece is of course the 1st after that trying period.