Untitled Frustration

The final word is written
My pen is dry of ink
I feel so wrung and broken
No longer want to think

But just when it is over
The End has been writ large
A thought occurs, Oh bugger
Don’t let my brain discharge

For now the task befalls me
That I have long deferred
The story came so easy
My mind was false secured

So here begins the trouble
My mind proceeds to race
The story needs a title
All I have is blank space

No matter how I worry
Or pace before the desk
My thoughts become contrary
The ideas more grotesque

I swear then curse the idols
Over writers who preside
But nothing from them bubbles
To the surface of my mind

In desperation searching
Through the corners of the text
For hidden tips and meaning
But continually vexed

Around and round in circles
Until dizziness calls stop
It suddenly untangles
The title’s in the plot!