Oh the curse of the cliche,
how it ravages the brain!
Makes your soul want to cry,
and deflates your right mind.
It's not at all like writer's block;
a rather horrific disease.
It's something deeper,
something worse.
What it is
is most definitely a curse.
There must be a spell on me,
brought on by misfortune
or perhaps just bad karma.
It's taking over,
it's forcing me to write
such tired old cliches.
Life, strife,
depression, aggression,
perfection, defection,
intelligence, ignorance,
silence and violence,
and light and what's right for the people.
What is love,
what are dreams,
what is hope
hear the screams?
Can you see,
we are blind,
what is truth,
can you find
the key to being something.
Enough!
Where has my creativity gone?
Where are all my ideas?
Always something new,
must be something new!
Where is the light-
-I've done it again!
The curse shall never lift!
Nothing of interest,
no inspiration,
nothing- nothing to write!
Someody-
Anybody!
Lift this curse upon me!
Free me from the blight
of being forced to write
these horrible cliches!