Ah alack alack.I think I have a writer's block.

Tick Tock;

goes the clock.

She stares at it;
Hearing the beat.
Like a drum, playing beats
Plotting the way for melody to ensue.

All around her,are noise
so she focuses on the beat:
Swathing ways for her to think;
Through the chaos of her thoughts.

She smiles,her upper lip arching upwards
and teeth meeting the lower,
and chews on it hard; drawing out blood.

Ironic.

Inspiration hits her
and she visibly brightens,
typing a few words,
clicking away.

But:-
then she frowns, biting on her lips
again.her eyebrows rise above the
wavy line of her fringe.nose scrunched.
Mouth pursed in distaste.

She hits a few keys;then
laying back on her chair,
exasperated she sighs.
Unsatisfied.

again she slumps and stares,
at the clock.focusing on the beat,
closing in on it.Desperate;
to find a way out of the writer's block.