A BLANK PAGE My mind has trouble conveying my thoughtsTo my hand and the pen that I holdI try to put the words onto paperSo my poem can begin to unfold. But alas my hand still grips the penNo words on paper have I scribedMy thoughts seem to be running rampantI can't seem to get them organized. I search and struggle for the wordsThey use to come to me so easilyBut now my pen rests upon the paperMy thoughts are striving to be free. I want to tell you of certain thingsSome magical and some that are trueI want my words to take you thereIt's your imagination you need to pursue. Words, I pray, do not elude meBut right now my pen sits idly byMy paper is blank and I'm confusedAs I sit here and continue to sigh. You'll have to wait to read my wordsAs my hand refuses to writeSomehow the message is being blockedSo I might as well say 'good-night!' But maybe tomorrow they'll be in syncAnd the words will begin to flowI'll have that poem for you to readAnd then your imagination can grow. So stick around and please don't leaveHang with me for another dayI know the words will eventually comeThere's so much I have to say. Written by: Chee Chee Martin