Blocked Out

By Aditi Sandeep

I sit here pen poised over paper,

Waiting for the words to fill this page.

I thought I’d have a lot to say to you,

My collective wisdom so witty and sage.

Inspiration, fickle friend tapered down to a drop,

A faint trickle runs then sputters to a full stop.

No matter how hard I force the words to come,

The words have all run out, an empty drum.

I’m waiting for the words to fill this page,

No rants or grievances to make a case.

No feelings or emotions left to convey,

Or something impelling or profound to say.

In the beginning the words would spill unfiltered,

Any spare piece of paper, small corner of a page.

A tissue at a restaurant, even the back of a bill,

Now vocabulary depleted like a dried up well.

Back then, my anger against this cruel world,

Would fuel the wet nib to scribble in a blur.

The emotions I felt streaked across in haste,

But now I’m waiting for the words to fill this page.

I used to be so dextrous I could origami my thoughts,

Complex forms of folded layers but now it all distorts.

Scoring lines through sentences, they all sound dumb,

What a nuisance stringing words has become.

Has my life become so staid and stationary?

So utterly insipid, completely devoid and ordinary?

The more I think, write and rewrite the scrawl,

My tired mind turns to face a blank wall.

By Aditi Sandeep