A Basket By The Corner Poem by Hannatu Pqrs

Many a-times, when I sit to write
A sheaf of papers on my writing desk
A blaring table lamp by my side
A most beautiful pen in my hand poised to write
A dictionary and encyclopedia
A pitcher of juice and a tumbler
Everything I need
A waste basket by the corner, empty still
A knock and a head appears,
‘Someone to see you', they say
Without raising my head, ‘come back later' I say
And yet, what do I write?
I chew the biro lid
Every now and then
My mind doth disappoint me, nothing to write
I scratch my head too
When will this end?
The air conditioner is working; not a bead of sweat on me
I sip a little juice
But this doesn't seem to help
I write down a word
Another and another and soon
Sentences, I form, that make no sense
I crumple the paper; a custody for the waste basket
I try again
I cancel and scribble
And soon, another crumpled paper in the waste basket
Another and another and soon
There is no more paper left to write
Indeed, there is nothing written down!
But a basket by the corner, full of waste!