It's been sixteen days
I don't have the courage to pick up a pen
And ink those thousand thoughts
I don't have the right words
I don't have the right thoughts
There are just too many of them
Crowding in my mind
Like a swarm of bees buzzing away killing my soul
They've spun a web in my mind  
But in spite of this rumpus
All that exists is a void
White spaces and fine lines
Half written anecdotes
Two words on the screen
And a blank space
Now my eyes feel a white light passing through them
Those self destructed verses try to find a place
Somewhere
They need to be carved
They need to be read
There's no room for these unwanted thoughts I guess
The teacher says turn to page number 25.