With fresh thoughts,

I sat down to pen,

My life’s journey,

Through my words,

On a paper that was

Crisp, fresh and empty.

As the ink flowed through the nib,

My thoughts froze.

It came to a standstill,

And resolved not to budge.

Minutes passed by

And so did hours,

But the ink still stayed in the nib.

As the boulder of my thoughts blocked it.

I wondered why,

I really wanted to write,

Then a wisp I heard,

Which said, “It’s the writer’s block.

Go ahead and unwind,

Do what you like.

Then come back rejuvenated

And the block will just melt away.”

I didn’t pay much heed,

And continued to ponder.

Days later, I was left behind,

With a pen laden with ink,

And a page,

Crisp, fresh and empty.

https://pixabay.com/illustrations/read-book-blank-book-drawing-page-7577787/