I see you're sitting in front of your screen
your fingers settling upon the letters
but they don't make out the right words.
Why do you need keys to write
and a mind to think?
Since when do you think in writing?
When has there been a need for you to
control the pent-up emotions
rising up to the tip of your tongue?
Just let them flow.
I see it's taking every nerve in your body
not to pull out all your hair
because the magic of words isn't sparking.
Why do you suffocate yourself
by forcing the beauty of words
on your screen?
Since when do you force writing?
When has there been a need for
your heart to ask you
for your permission in the first place?
Just pour it out.
I need you to hear me
be patient
and let the words bake a little
before you coat them with emotions
and only then you'll
pull out a beautiful masterpiece.
YOU ARE READING
Midnight Garden of Words
PoetryIn a world surrounded by darkness lies a wondrous place where all it takes is one look a few steps before you're lost dancing under the twenty-six stars known as letters shining bright over the midnight garden of words.
