Bleed your hands to write

And crash your souls of fear

Sit in agony, cry in misery

It is not an easy thing to do

For all the pride to go

Walk in the woods if you need to

Where trees and butterflies grow

Smell the flowers perhaps

And take a shower too

Then hear the voice again

And write where it flows

It may lead you to a place

Where you are supposed to go

If to write is an upward hill

Humble your heart and mind to kneel

He will provide the words for you

If you will just continue to show

It is a promise He made

When writer’s block pervades.

These were the things you have to know

For you to keep writing through