(This is an oldie posted again especially for my fellow writers. I feel your pain.)

WRITERS WRITE?

 Singers sing and teachers teach.

Fighters fight and preachers preach.

Tailors sew and smokers puff.

Catwalk models strut their stuff.

Writers think and rant and scribble,

Find their thoughts are merely drivel.

 

Cleaners clean and painters paint.

Gossips slur and smear and taint.

Bakers stir and spread and mix.

Gymnasts show off springs and kicks.

Writers stew and sweat and swear,

Chew their nails and pull their hair.

 

Sculptors sculpt and tenors sing.

Rappers dance and show off bling.

Builders measure, pound, and saw.

Dentists put shots in your jaw.

Writers ponder, walk the floor,

Scratch their heads until they’re sore.

 

Doctors doctor, drivers race.

Cosmeticians fix your face.

Lawyers argue, cowboys rope.

Moms and dads find ways to cope.

Writers grimace, growl, and drool,

Practice much self-ridicule.

 

Tourists visit, nurses tend.

Pavers pave and fixers mend.

Suitors woo and hackers hack.

Chiropractors fix your back.

Writers quarrel, fret, and stress,

Find their efforts are a mess.

 

Politicians plot and speak.

Plumbers come to stop your leak.

NASA workers study Mars.

Golfers concentrate on pars.

Writers whine and writhe and weep.

Stand on ledges, poised to leap.

 

When one struggles to compose

A story, poem, theme, or prose,

All ideas leave her head.

Her creativity is dead.

Though she tries with all her might,

She can’t think of a thing to write.