Writer's Block - 0 ; Me - 1

Lately I had been inspired to write a poem. As usual, quite a few of the lines came to me so naturally it was almost as if the poem was writing itself. In high school and college there were countless times when I had a writing assignment of sorts and found myself frustrated and struggling with writer's block. Yet whenever I write poems I never really seemed to have that problem, until now.

This poem was constructed backwards. First came the ending lines, and then came the beginning. For whatever reason though, the two segments didn't flow together. There was no connecting thought process, which quite frankly defeats the whole purpose of writing in the first place.

Luckily Sabbath was quiet and inspirational, and since I was already leaning towards feeling rather meloncholy, it took very little effort for me to be able to finish. Hopefully you'll like it as much as I do:

Her Mother's Daughter

"Do as I say, and not as I do."
Became the indoctrination of her childhood.
Her life's path predestined
As a result of her blood line.
She was cursed to repeat these misdoings.
Fear of ridicule
Taught her to resist temptation.
Drawing lines in the sand
Of an already barren love life,
She admired from afar,
Looking but never touching,
Battling against learned behaviors and
Setting boundaries so as not to
Become her mother's daughter.