The writers block .....

Your hair falling in place
That smug look on your face
Looking like the harvest moon
on a simple sunday noon

So begin the first few lines
and the writers mind misaligns
The flow of words are astray
for better lines, he just prays

On vital chords he scribbles down
a silly line as ever known
He wonders what to write down next
his mind is filled with scrambled text

He gains his glory,
his hand runs fast
He pens a story
to everlast

This is not the end
but the beginning
He wrote it down
to make us think ......

- The Crooked Pen