The Ink Drips

A poem about Writers Block, yes , I know its a bit of a contradiction...


1. The Ink Drips

The ink drips

Off the pen

That's poised in mid-air

Like a cat about to pounce

Or a eagle thats spotted some prey

But nothing is spotted

No cogs turning

No thoughts whirring

In my brain Is it working?

Or is this lack of motivation

Some sort of malfuntion?

Like your computer

You'd take it to a Geek Squad

To get a virus removed

But where

Where do you take your brain

To get the writer's block removed?

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