My mind is empty
Devoid of words
I have nothing to say
To be read or heard
I should feel content
As there are no woes on my mind
Having nothing to express
Means everything\'s fine
But I must confess
I miss that voice in my head
That sense of self expression
That allows me to say
what\'s meant to be said
It just means I have to wait
Until the words call out my name
And then I can write
More poetry once again
It\'s like inspiration takes a break
Just for a while
Maybe goes on holiday
with its wife and child
Then comes back home renewed and refreshed
Ready to create a string of verse
But until that return
I feel lost and alone
So I wait with pen in hand
Silently at home