I clutch the pen in my fingers And press it gently upon the paper. I try to write something, anything But my mind goes blank! Is this what they call a ‘writer’s block’? I wonder but find no answer. I desperately seek an answer As I keep twisting the pen in my fingers And with my other hand, fiddle with a wooden block. I stare closely at the paper, But it’s blank, totally blank! I wish I could write something, anything!! But I simply can’t think of anything, Million doubts echo in my head with no definite answer. Never before have I felt so blank. There was a time when words were at the tip of my fingers But today, I can't catch a single one on paper, Surely, this is what they call a writer’s block! In sheer desperation, I throw away my wooden block And in my futile endeavour to write something, anything I crumble paper after paper. I try re-arranging my thoughts for an answer, But only end up unconsciously biting my fingers. The paper in front of me still remains blank! I rise and stare at the mirror with an expression all-blank, And after carefully replacing over the table, my wooden block, I once more put the jinxed pen within my fingers. And thus restarts my struggle to write something, anything. “Why”, I wonder but find no answer, “Can I put nothing save nothingness on my paper?” I scribble some nonsense on the paper, Crumble it up and draw a fresh one, absolutely blank I wish someone could give me an answer- “How do I fight off this writer’s block?” “Why simply can’t I write anything?” “What has immobilized my swift fingers?” Itching for an answer, once more I throw away my wooden block, The paper in front of me, though still remains as blank. Incapable of writing anything, yet again I end up biting my fingers!