I stare at this white blank page
Hoping I will be inspired
Nothing - maybe it's my age
Or perhaps I'm just plain tired
But look, black ink covers white
It is no longer empty
Still this screen page is too bright
I think I'm going batty
I'm talking to my laptop
As if it is my best friend
Now it's not so blank on top
And my mood is on the mend
Still, a rest is what I need
I feel so tired and empty
And my psyche needs to feed
On the fair isle of Zante
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem