Writer's Block

by Raghunandan Srinivasan

Poets churn out verse after verse
Authors pile prose upon prose;
Here I sit, trying to write,
Nothing comes to mind, what a sorry plight!

How they do it is a mystery
Is it their talent or is it just me?
Their thoughts in words, seems so easy,
My blank mind, a different story!

They have many a subject to choose
Pick what they might they just can't lose;
Things on my mind, thoughts aplenty,
Putting pen to paper, oh Almighty!

Write they do with quite some ease
To bare their soul or just to please;
Be it poetry, prose or satire,
My own words , my great desire!

Creativity is the name of the game
It's certainly not my claim to fame;
A writer of note, I may never be,
Try my heart out, that's certainly me!

28-Feb-2001

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