I sat before the blank computer screen —
my  mind as blank as what I saw.


Was hoping for some inspiration.
I  planned to write a poem —
a poem that I could call my own.


I stared and stared
but still the blanks remained there.


There wasn’t any poetry
tumbling, fumbling in my mind —
nothing there  my finger tips could find.


Even though I stayed up late
to make a deal with Muse
the Muse refused my overtures.


I finally went to bed
and fled from failure.

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