Staring at a page
Smeared with ink
Blank in my head
Yet, I try to think

What hope do I have?
To cope with my plight
Dark spurts of ink drops
Just soaked in my writes

I thought of using a pen
Instead of a daily quill
Might change my perspective
But then again, it's my will-

I sit to decorate my hand
With the spurted ink drops
Writing my favorite lines
In an ancient draggy font

No, I am not insane
Not yet, as you might think
I am using my brain
To tattoo with this ink

A little bit of innovation
Has led me to realise
Finding such inspiration
Before my own sunken eyes...
*

©sim