Words Fail

I sit here, begin to write
But my words, of late, begin to fail
My ideas wretched in the night
And the words produced are fully stale

So here's more on a writer's block
The slow fail at the keyboard
I contemplate, my mind on lock
Believing readers will be bored

Still I waver, and I try
But come up with mediocrity
I settle back and breathe a sigh
Yet my mind won't listen to a plea

Still I can't resist a rhyme
A semblance of rhythm, hard to seize
I find that I have abundant time
And dread the advent of a freeze.