Writer's life, staring at a screen,
Words flowing like a river, or so it would seem.
But the blank page taunts and mocks,
As the hours slowly ticks and tocks.
We search for inspiration,
But our motivation falters, in desperation.
And yet we keep writing, line after line,
For some reason we can't define.
Is it the thrill of creating something new,
Or the satisfaction of a task we pursue?
We may never know the true answer,
But for now, we'll keep writing, like a dancer.
© Mivuyo Ntantiso

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