• I stare at the blank computer screen
    Willing the words to just appear.
    In my mind’s eye bleeds through a scene,
    Of which I fear,
    I cannot create it clean,
    Much less clear.

    My mind I try to clear
    But there is a muddy screen,
    Keeping me from doing so if the need may appear.
    My subconscious self will cause a scene
    Trapped inside the box, I fear,
    Demanding to make this page not clean.

    The walls inside my box are clean,
    For of my writings they are clear.
    My voice flows through the entrance screen
    “Not for long, I fear,
    For I vow to write a scene
    Upon your walls, as clean as they appear.”

    I smile as the words appear
    For they crumple, those walls so clean.
    My mind is clear
    Of the obstructing screen.
    No longer do I fear
    My inability to create a coherent scene

    On the walls, unfolds a scene
    Sad or joyous it may appear.
    Words break through the remaining screen,
    The muddiness they clear.
    The walls are no longer clean.
    I laugh, for gone is my fear.

    Out I crawl, with out fear,
    My eyes open to the monitor screen.
    I blink, so suddenly words appear.
    My last memory shows it clean,
    Of the words it was clear.
    There’s no longer a blank computer screen.

    Filled is the screen, gone is my fear
    The box will not appear, for there is the scene
    My deadline is clean, and my conscious clear.