Didn’t know what the title would be either

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Newcomer, I am, into this class of penning it down
Flamed by a passion to create something beautiful
The passion into which I completely drown
The passion in which I strive to be skillful. 

As I convene myself with a pen and paper
Imagination knew no bound 
I swerve in it like a skater 
Nowhere in the real world I were to be found. 

And when I clutch the pen 
Adhered I am right at the start. 
Though I had ideas ten 
The bull’s eye, I couldn’t hit with the dart. 

“What do I write about?” 
The question echoed within. 
Whirling in a roundabout 
And stuck in a writer’s block’s inn.

Should I write about the ocean’s cavern?
Or about the Everest’s peak? 
Or about the broad Grand Canyon?
Or just a petite bird’s adorable beak? 

Crowding the floor with crumpled up papers
Clenching my hair between my fingers
Frustrated like a mother holding scrapers.
Urged by the need to create bangers. 

Exhaling the deepest sigh 
Putting all the brain cells to rest
I keenly watched the pigeons fly
And finally make it to their nest 

Realizing that good things take a time pay
I smiled with a sense of relief 
Relieved that I, too, will make it one day
Make it to my nest that stands stiff

No matter if it is today 
Or a long eternity later 
To myself, I pledge that I will make hay
Even if the sun doesn’t shine brighter. 

Um! Did I just pen about this baffle fever?
Uh-Oh! What do I name it now? 
Eh! I’ll just name it with love 
That I ‘Didn’t know what the title would be either.’


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