Writer's Block

The pen rests in my hand
Fingers limp on the keyboard
Hear the clock tick and tock
I think this is writer's block

I've tried being off the wall
I've tried being casually brief
This brainstorm has passed over
Now no cloud in the sky

Brooding over three cups of coffee
My style went astray
I've dreamt of Kerouac
On the road at home and away

I know there's potential here
Paving the road to greatness
Each word a stepping stone
To publish my brain in print

I've tried to open your minds
To find the key to open mine
But when i picked the lock
I realized it was locked from the inside

Maybe this is all i've got
Is this the peak of my imagination
What do I have to sacrifice
To get some recognition

My bones bleach in the sand
Focused on the mirage of the reward
A lonely bird with no flock
This must be writer's block