The Empty Page

The pen in my hand, The ink in my pen, Sought out the page; For a place to begin. With time ticking by, The frustration set in. I took a deep breath, Counting backwards from ten. When that didn't work, I twiddled my thumbs. Then tapping my temple, Kept searching for crumbs. It got to the point, Where I needed a nap. My eyes grew so heavy, Dropped pen in my lap. After startled awake, It popped in my head. So called it a day, And went straight to bed.