I sit and stare,
pencil sharp,
yet no words appear on the page,

A blankness of paper and mind.
I count the pixels,
on the plain white screen,
they mock me,
I want to fill them,
but can think of nothing.

In the labyrinth of my mind,
and in the folds of gray matter,
words and thoughts hide,
a game of hide and seek,
my muse plays with me.

There was nothing,
but there was something,
in the nothing,
I could just see it,
out of the corner of my eye,
but not clear enough to read it.

Where once words frolicked,
on a great open plain,
forming verse with the wind,
changing as predators chased.

Now a blank desert,
where have the words gone,
hidden, sleeping, lost,
in the jungle,
at the edges of thought?