Writer's block

If I knew what to write I wouldn’t be sitting here wondering ,
completely devoid of inspiration.
I wouldn’t be able to stop the words from flowing from my fingertips,
I would write line upon line,
verse upon verse
to scrutinize at a later stage
to put together and to elaborate,
to correct and erase,
to find new words with new meanings
I’d have a good idea,
I'd have a fantastic idea
I would praise myself
and contemplate life very deeply
philosophically as well
I may fall into a dream
or a past memory
I may think of resolving problems
I may even find solutions
and I will write about it
But as it is,
staring at a blank page,
my mind’s pen has run out of ink