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