Every morning...!

Every morning, I walk with new verses

Every morning, I hold them until I get to my desk

And then I open a word document from certain wealthiest maker

Then I feel like a beggar, who’s lost his fortune

It’s a mind block, many of the experts confess

They say it’s normal and happens

By acknowledging, I put myself into their league when I know I should not

And I know it’s not even that block, coz I was high in my walk

Until it disappeared in shock, looking at the word doc

See, wasn't that rhyming enough?

And I don’t pen down anything. What’s the point in having to write half-wits?

It’s not like I have to tear the sheet or roll paper balls

It’s just software that gets deleted

Or simply remains opened, and blank each day

And I look at it in guilt of keeping it empty

There’s a question mark that pops… one that’s imaginary

I decide, I should fill it with something

It can’t be forever thirsty

And then I collect my jumbled words

How long can I remain silent, and say nothing!

Something slips off memory and something else shows up

Some beautiful thoughts within mind seldom traverse

While mind keeps stuffs to itself and feels lost

Some part of the soul remains thirsty, waiting, looking out

And it’s another morning… And it’s like every morning…