I was supposed to do other things, but alas

Learning how to walk again,

From shambles of a broken self,

Totter past the plains of life,

Plain it may I thought of last,

The echoing confidence of starting fresh,

And rumbling of dreams gone passing by,

And excitement of flaws and minute detail,

And encouragement of self to be better yet.


My nights and days are tumbling by,

My life awash in flooding emotions,

My will a flicker in deep cold nights,

My devotion assumed a backseat stance.


I’d like to talk more, walk more, run more, but not from life,

I’d like to listen more, see more, to read and write,

I’d like to finish masterpieces dreamed all my life,

And set up a cafe with recipes thought overnight.


I’d like my imagination running rampant around,

I’d like my hands transcribing words from mind,

I want to fly to islands around the globe,

Then come back to my cozy, humble abode.


But alas, I am here, doing nothing profound.


1.09 am

25th September 2018

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