There's nothing quite so sombre
as a virgin pad of paper,
which stares upon the writer;
tantalisingly unused.
Deceptively unmoving,
but still its challenge given
to the writer, set on proving
that her mind can find the words.
And oh! To be that writer
with her pen ready, a-quiver
to lay words upon that paper,
fill it all with singing prose.
But alas, this writer's broken,
with no words worthy of speaking,
so she writes this little poem
to all sympathetic ears.















Critiques
Thank you for your Critique
You are not logged in.