Oh, poet's block..
your blunt arrival leaves prosers in shock!
Their fingers hanging loosely over sets of keys,
their glasses slowly dropping to their knees,
leaves your craving for bad prose pleased.
They'll wait and wait, sit and sit
They won't like it, not a bit!
Until finally, creavity goes
and shoves a stick
right up your nose.
Then, sadly, on your way,
you'll have your chance
another day.
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