Poetic procrastinator
Files of work left undone
Increasing his desire to run.
Haunting deadlines and charts
and a wish to write poem from his heart.
Gazing out of his window
looking at the street light glow.
Lost in a maze of thoughts
surrounded amidst workaholic lots.
The pen in his hand meant to sign
instead decided to write a line.
“ I wish to lead my life stress- free
Where I am the hero of my story”
What meets the eye
Many years ago a lady stood still
rose like lips near the quill.
Subtle smile and eyes with gleam
an artist’s alluring dream.
The hands of a genius expect perfection
In his every soulful creation.
Below him lay discarded sheets, potential art
but nowhere close to what he sought.
Upon the dips of sun and moon
his art made everyone swoon.
The patrons sung praises beguiled
royals splurged gold with pride.
Today she stands in the era of modernity
as her beauty lives on for eternity.
Charm and grace and in every stroke
struggles and hardships unspoke.
Insomnia
The darkness before me is real the sleep I seek is a lie.
Thoughts of past haunt me and my pillow moist with the tears I cry.
There is something that holds me from being unconscious but now the struggle is repetitious.
The world around me is paused as though the time willingly stopped.
People around me are busy in a process essential, for their wellbeing and survival,
like robots being lubricated, preparing to perform a task they are obligated.
I sit up with a pen in hand , and a book to scribble thoughts in mind.
why am I not drawn to a state of bliss?Is it because of someone I miss?
Or the sound of the clock tick, that reminds me of a mouse click.
the deadlines I must meet, and clients I am supposed to greet
I am running like an hamster on a wheel, a human with no zeal.
Than bulbs that shine on a perfectly bright day, till they go grey
I’d rather be a lone spark that shines in the dark.
I shall peacefully rest in bed only when my hunger for success is fed
when my loneliness is at bay, and I learn to love the day.
Until then I sit here with a glass of wine, hopeing to write a line.
–END–
