'The mouse of Thought infests my head.
He knows my cupboard and the crumb.
Vermin! I despise vermin.
I have no trap, no skill with traps,
No bait, no hope, no cheese no bread —
I fumble with the task to no avail.
I've seen him several times lately.
He is too quick for me,
I see only his tail.'
Create a picture,
The writings of E.B. White, author of the poem posted above, are something that I have always enjoyed, as I have stated in previous entries on this blog which you may refer to by clicking here as well as here and here; and, for my readers who are writers that, like yours truly, suffer from time to time with a stubborn muse, the poem, Vermin, and the photograph of my writer's block pencil are for your consolation.
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