My head is void of thoughts
My soul is null of feelings
My mind is devoid of words and phrases
My paper remains unstained for days,
Itching and begging for ink to pour.
The pen is dry of ink,
And the fountain of ink floweth not anymore,
The channel of knowledge has been blocked_
Not permanently__but temporarily.

I sit in my couch all day long
Begging for the door of knowledge to open to me its store of ever filled words.
I go down on my knees each day,
Praying that the clouds of wisdom pour down on me its rain of unending wisdom_
I hope you, my little head will not reject the kind gesture of these two.