I never use to care
about the production
of disjointed thought
that flowed so easily
from my previously
clogged brain pores
The unsuspecting page
was simply there
to be filled
at this author's discretion
with zero regard
for form or substance
Though secretly envious was I
of talented writers displayed
on social media walls
who crafted language
with such soaring grace
Eventually I clumsily
stumbled in and found my place
like a cave man amongst
cloud dwelling artists
Using blunt force technique
I found my voice
in a format formally
foreign to me
Picking it up as I went
Perhaps I learned too well
Cause today I suffer
from the dreaded
analysis paralysis
Parsing words
in a sticky web
of literary self critical
Unable to finish lines
Incomplete thoughts
litter my keyboard
The creative flow now dammed
by boulders of process
and these damn standards
I formerly never had
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