I am thinking of writing a poem,
I’m out of words and out of topic,
I wish something comes to me fast,
Some beautiful entity or weird logic
So here I am writing a poem,
Poem on not being able to write a poem,
Its sort of an ironical situation,
Or maybe just my desperation
I feel like Sherlock Holmes now,
Not that I’m a consulting detective,
This empty mind craves for mystery,
Or it feels like its somewhat defective
I guess writers feel it too,
This feeling of desperation,
Not being able to conjure their imagination,
Defeating their only true aspiration
I am listening to some songs,
Trying to awaken my emotional faculties,
This will help me start contemplating,
And write about some personal intricacies…
-Self
Life As We Show It 