Bland

It’s been a long time,
Since I’ve written a poem.
Nothing tickles my fancy,
Not even being alone.

Words escape me
I don’t know why.
If I don’t write something soon,
I think I’ll cry.

I’ve read too many works,
That take my breath away.
How can I compare
To experts in the field?

And though I sit
With pen in hand
My minds a blank
My poem, somewhat bland.