Writer's block

A poem

Once, Words used to flow, So effortlessly,

Now, They come in bursts and spurts, At inconvenient moments, When neither pen nor phone, Is within sight.

It's almost as if, The words are afraid.

Afraid they're straying away, From the main goal, Of research and papers, Of methods and conclusions.

I try to coax them gently, Telling my mind it is okay, To go beyond the main goal, To feel that rush of happiness again, The freedom of expressing myself, Just for the sake of expression...