Lulled Infant
of pretention,
innocent smile
lies asleep.
Cradled in
the poets heart,
a pen's dried ink
is unable to weep.
Imagination no
longer sown.
Another poet's
tear dies alone.
" Cradled in /the poets heart, / a pen's dried ink /is unable to weep." Wow! There can be better words to describe Writers Block.5*
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Brilliant thoughts Bravo! ! !
I feel so blessed to have such a wonderful comment. Thank you : )