Writer's Syndrome

I wrote .. and scratched
I opened notepad and then closed it without saving
I knew one thing that my heart knew as well .. I could not write anymore
I coaxed some thoughts , I forced some letters into them .. but aha NO
The feeble writer in me , just refused to help me ..

Writer's syndrome as they call it .... I don't know what it seriously means ... however when I say I cant write anymore .. and I have this so called syndrome .. it makes me feel great .. makes me fit the league of writers and apparently into zone of some serious artists who after some wonderful art pieces took a break from writing

My case is a little different , or as you may read ahead .. you may differ to agree
I used to write poems from childhood .. In school they merely consisted of some words put together in form of rhymes . Though not poetical enough , they helped me in two things. Firstly in developing my grammar and vocabulary and second most importantly , it helped me put down my thoughts , to pen down my mind map and to unleash in words the deepest complex thoughts that I may not naturally say .
Though many who know me from recent past may disagree , I was a very introvert child . The writing helped me read myself and express myself to the unknown first , before it was read by parents and sister , who started complimenting my flow of thoughts into poetical and word formats

As time flew , and years passed ... and I journeyed across my youth .. thoughts became more clearer .. ideas more bright leading to strong opinions and structured views.I penned them down before they flew away with the time . I captured some of my innocent young romances , few of my walks that took me to unknown paths and also socially active views which gave me a little popularity in the form of blogs

Life took me to some more paths .. some darker then others but eventually brought in sunshine and some very luring but pushed me in grave darkness . My thoughts became more complicated and mind struggled more in understanding my own soul. I clashed into some of my own beliefs and took some actions which surprised me
Complicated minds cannot be mapped into words .. choked thoughts cannot be painted on a paper and following the pattern ..my half cluttered heart did not sing any soulful songs

I am trying to clear my mind off the past ... I wish that the paths of darkness turn to paths of faith .. regain the trust in my own goodness and strength of my pen
With this hope I will rest my mind and hope it shines back at me with more words and smiles