Doing somewhat nothing these days still don't have time for anything,
Lately it feels like I haven't read or written much,its 4 AM calling.
Is it just another poem block?
Who cares if my brain dump is lock?
My mind tries to play innocence,
pretends with a pause and silence.
I seat on my usual couch with a notebook,
it gives me a casual blank shot look.
Its empty and needs to be filled,
wrote something but failed.
Cut out the check list,
gripping the pen tightly that hurts my wrist.
YOU ARE READING
Rose garden that grew within me✔
KöltészetI literally remember those days when I had this sort of conversation with my sister over the phone: "guess what?" "lemme guess another new poem!".🥀 and then we scream 'Yay' in our own world of happiness. I re-read some of my favourites among these...
