I cannot write a word upon the page,

Which lies before me, bare, open and clean

Tormenting me and my mind with a plague

Of all of the words written yet unseen

Which I can feel but not begin to gauge 

Nor plumb their depths nor find apex nor mean

Nor can I even measure all their ways. 

In short, somehow, the words, they escape me

And I am left in a mad mess of rage

Searching to write the words felt but unseen.