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.