the throat chokes,
the mind unsteady,
the pen, fed to the full, refuses to go,
the white sheet staring back tauntingly,
loneliness in the room beating me down,
nothing is not it does not mean to be,
the doors ajar, the curtain restless,
the muse is silent,
you have chosen not to come.
I liked the fact that you left the lines incomplete, its a few sudden things. very well written though! Preets
perhaps that is the pain of creation.you have written it very well.good poem.i enjoyed it
Yes, this does happen occassionally... You expressed it so nicely. Anjana
i could feel it udit. floating curtain alone thinking of a tanka
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
i agree - a very well written poem! i love the rhythm the excellent title the words you are piausing and the way you express sadness through a pen Excellent! ! wishing you a joyful day-