If your mind
has been frozen
once before,
you would feel
the cold
of this story poem.


❄
And it begins,
"I know what to write yet I don't,"
This writer sits caught in a desperate trance.
Words linger on the tip of her tongue,
Yet like a fleeting dream, they come undone.

She picks the pen up for the hundredth time, then writes,
“Love, the elusive muse, my heart deni-" the words get stuck in her mind.

Silence!

The frustration builds
with each futile try,
As her thoughts scatter
like birds to the sky.

"No, not this," she crumples the paper tight,
Tossing it aside in the dead...