Welcome all you travelers, Writers, poets one and all. You’re probably just passing through Looking for a place to stall. We truly know what ails you, It’s quite plain to see. It’s a disease we all share It’s awful we agree.
What is this curse you ask? Shared by all with imagination It’s writers block, the fearful thing Stops the flow of our creation! Well lucky you who’ve entered here This haven, perilous and dim For some creatures oft do linger Lurking behind each tree limb.
With fangs as sharp as Elvish wit And eyes as red as rubies Glowing with malevolence They’d make anyone’s blood freeze. Plotbunny is the name so black That these beasts are called Bunny you ask? Harmless you think Watch out, you might get mauled.
For plotbunnies are vicious things With a desire they cannot slake They feed on creativity (In blood also, they will partake.) If ye seek a cure For this incurable disease Find yourself a bunny, (Make sure it has no fleas) It does bite, it doesn’t hurt, Until you realize The thing isn’t going to let go Until you sympathize!
Rush to your computer Sit down upon the chair Type before it strangles you, Mutter a short prayer. You may think it frightening But when you have appeased it, You’ve got a damn good story Thanks to him you must admit.
So, Stranger, if you are not Too partial to a pen, Walk carefully, speak softly, Do not wander here again.