You're waiting there, your mind all twisted,
Your eyes screwed up, your hands are fisted.
You're sitting up, you're lying down,
You're walking round with a big dark frown
You stretch up high then crouch down small
"Is there nothing of use in there at all?"
You droop and heave a great big sigh,
The pen and paper's standing by
You clutch your head and deeply think
When suddenly there comes a chink!
A tiny glimmer of realisation
And out it comes, the new creation
Your pen moves with the speed of light
You laugh out loud with sheer delight...

"The struggle?" You just can't recall.
It's really not that hard at all.