I sit at my computer set to type a poem,
my fingers poised with the tips on asdfjkl;
No matter how much I will them,
they cannot create a poem for me.
I reach deep into my mind, yet it
is as blank as a brand new canvas.
I sit and stare, and I ponder what I want to say.
Yet there is nothing ready to flow for me,
no way to coax poetry onto my screen.
Have my poetic reserves run dry?
Or do I need to search deep within my heart
and listen for it’s gentle murmur of a poem?
Do I need to search for a new muse?
Is it a sign to give up this poetic venture?