Whenever I am sick at heart,
a river of never ending thoughts
flows inside me.
A state of utter confusion besieges me.
Tears are at the brink of falling.
My heart at the verge of collapsing.
Sense of complete helplessness surrounds me.
This in when words come in for my rescue
"Writing is real healer"
#21
Apr 24, 2019
Apr 24, 2019 at 3:16 PM UTC
Whenever I am sick at heart,
a river of never ending thoughts
flows inside me.
A state of utter confusion besieges me.
Tears are at the brink of falling.
My heart at the verge of collapsing.
Sense of complete helplessness surrounds me.
This in when words come in for my rescue
"Writing is real healer"
#21
Request permission to use this poem