I thought about writing
A poem that would amuse
Everyone who read it
So much that they
Would actually love it
Inked four main scripts
But none of them felt right
Not everyone would relate to it
Just a few lovers of art
Would smile in the deep
But wouldn't show on the face
And would never bother
To comment
So the voice's chose silence
The agony of facing a blank page
With a Pen on the right hand
And the mind endlessly
Tip toeing through
Judgemental stuff

The spark died off.