Long ago I had forgotten this art,
the delicate craft of words that create music,
a symphony of heartfelt desires and unspoken feelings.
Moments of my life scribbled on crisp sheets,
for it was easier to express them in unruly lines,
than to fool myself whispering everyday "It's nothing. I'm fine..."
Yet again I return to them-hit with a gust of realisation,
These poems mean more to me than their fancy prose or forms; they are an outlet of
My bottled up feelings, My controversial opinions, My crazy fantasies,
and destructive thoughts!
For when people failed to understand me,
these poems did...
they never forgot the essence of my words, the breadth of my imagination,
bursting from the depths of my soul-the unstoppable fountain of emotions .
So next time when the world overwhelms me,
trust me I'll be fine,
As long as I have a pen, a book and some solitary time.
