It’s been months of me
facing this dull piece of paper,
The pen on my hand is still,
not even a slight quiver.
I have no words to write nor
story to share.
I think I am broken or
I have lost my ability to tell.
Talent where have you gone,
You have been away for far too long.
Somehow, I have found no medication
for this disease.
Find me a muse, send me comfort,
Come reside in this mind.
or perhaps be the remedy for
my curse.