Poetry In Emotion [Completed]

Ink

I take a pen to write; there's my ink
Now, a paper, and I start to write; that makes me think
What to write, would be the next question on the invisible list
Maybe write about ink. Surely, your poems need them and are missed

The pen touches the paper and out comes ink that's blue
What an interesting hue
How is this possible? I think to myself when the pen starts to write
I don't even know how the ink comes out of a hole so tight

I start to write about ink
But, for some odd reason, I can't seem to think
I've run blank on what to write next
This makes me so vexed

But I try to write, anyway
It'll come out eventually today