I brought my pen to my lips, <br />And started inhaling, <br />Sucked in, <br />in <br />and in. <br />My lungs became barren of breath, <br />My flesh in exasperation, grasped the bones tightly. <br />But not a single dropp of ink, coloured my throat. <br />Thats Writer's Agony. <br /> <br />In the Buddha Posture i sat, <br />With pen and paper in hands. <br />I Thought, <br />thought <br />and thought. <br />My mind <br />my soul <br />my senses <br />All got numb. <br />Pen and paper departed <br />And my head fell down. <br />Thats Writer's Pain. <br /> <br />An idea crept into my mind, <br />and smile swept over my lips. <br />Pen was dancing, <br />Paper was fluttering. <br />Both were dying for union. <br />Time came and kiss was the only distance, <br />but the nib broke. <br />That's Writers Cry.<br /><br />Vishal Kumar<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/writer-s-feelings/
