A Poen in Need

A Poem in Need 

Staring at a paper white,

I wonder why, no ideas bright,
Seems to have hit a writer’s block,
The more I try, more I hit a rock.

Maybe I am upgrading my ability to charm,
As long as the end is not head in the palm,
I need to gather new sounds and sights,

Possibly write about human plight.

Words said by a person esteemed,

Open invite from a magazine,
A friendly advice from someone dear,
To break all shackles of fear.

All these thoughts come circling in,
None of them go into the dustbin,
Through sickness and pain,
Mind is meandering aimlessly in one lane.

So until the charms are refreshed,

Or many tiny ideas get meshed,
I note, observe every incident,
Panning out both humorous and serious bend.