Blank.

[Source]

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I hate it when my muse play pranks
I detest it, when the weather is dank
And I find nothing to refill my tank

I hate it when my imaginations turn black
And lack of words lower my rank
And nothing lies in my pen bank

My pleas have fallen
On the deaf ears of my pen
My pen finally betrayed me

I hope to find my muse back
Write ceaselessly even in the dark
And at the end of the day, get a good remark

Would you please
Appeal to my muse to be back?
So that my note may not be blank

This is the diary of a lady who jas lost her touch and wish to find her groove back.

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Thank you for your time.

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My pen doesn't bleed, it speaks, with speed and ease.

Still me,

My tongue is like the pen of a ready writer.

Olawalium; (Love's chemical content, in human form). Take a dose today: doctor's order.