It’s been a while
Since I wrote some verses
For this work and this life
Are pandemonium curses
When I sit by the window
To pen down my thoughts
There’s nothing to write
My thoughts have paused
So I stare out in solitude
At the sky; there’s no sun
Overcast in my boredom,
Like it can never be undone
I turn around and gaze back
At the blank paper, a writer’s crime
The nip of the pen gone dry
My forte lost with time
