Pencil in hand,
I am ready.
Why don’t words move my hand?
Blank sheet after blank sheet
Invites me to cover them with my scrawling handwriting.
Waiting, waiting….still waiting.
Words finally come
And erupt
In a blur of ink.
The black notebook became my best friend.
I took it everywhere.
The paper and pen became my cape and crown,
Making me
Ruler and hero.