Writer's Dilemna
The page is blank, what do I do?
Waiting silently in that moment for inspiration anew.
Words dance like pixies as they come and go,
But for some plagued reason, there is no rhythm or flow.
Thoughts once gathered from wisdom's wing
Cannot find their voice though they try to sing.
The writer stands alone in that place
For he is the one who must find the pace.
But when the pace is not to be found
Words and paper cannot be bound.
The blank page looks up and says quietly...
"Where are the words you promised to me?"
written 9/11/15
Note: I was a member 6 years ago, but have not been active
because of an accident. I consider myself an "old poet".
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