After a long time
I felt to write.
A scrap of time
Has taught me
I forgot to smile,
I forgot to cry,
I forgot to celebrate,
I forgot to live.
I climbed uphills,
I withstood storms,
I endured pains,
I cried out of joy,
I got satiated with joys,
Still all my days and nights were the same.
I was trying to live without pen,
As if was trying to put off the sun
With a drop of water.
I was at the end of the world,
All alone, feeling secluded.
I felt i have to be connected.
It was like meeting
A precious lost love,
I remembered it,
The gracious gifts of poems.
There is a season for everything,
Season of love,
Season of blossoms,
Season of mist,
Season of grief,
But poetry is season of life.
Connecting.....
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