Writer's Block Alphabet

Always I have dreamed of
Becoming a
Children’s author, but
Doubt has flooded my heart.
Everything I write sounds
Foolish or over used.
Grief has stricken my
Happy hopes of
Introducing a cute and
Joyful story for all
Kindred spirits to share.
Lying awake night after night
My mind does not rest
Nor my body allows sleep.
Only the words I am waiting for
Play dead, leaving
Questions in my
Rusty head of
Sorry and
Tired phrases.
Umbrellas keep my inside
Voices dry. My
Words are over examined,
X-rayed by my
Yellowed thoughts. Alas, the
Zealousness has not left and I shall begin again.