Block, Block I knock
on a poets writers block-door of mind.
No one answers so I knock again.

Block, Block
Come out come out
to play, mind pattern
who is in darkness.

Block, Block I knock,
as I breath deep
to expand with trust
and determination.

At last door opens.
At last a crack I see
so my breath of intent may enter.

Finally I can  
shoot with my ray gun aimed
at wall of wandering doubts.

Bang, Bang Block,
I stand with gun of creativity
filled with word-like bullets
to disintegrate you,
and success is mine
Thusly... I can move with flow
so I may write.