Tic Tic part - II

A china bowl
filled with salt
lies in front of me,
yet it is so empty.

I scratch my head
as the pencil's lead
scratches the sheet
flakes of dandruff
fall at my feet.

A strand of hair
falls in my view
I push it back
a time or two
and think of what
to write or do
but thoughts infinite
and words are few.