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mahima-gupta-1Poems
It's been sixteen days I don't have the courage to pick up a pen And ink those thousand thoughts I don't have the right words I don't have the right thoughts There are just too many of them Crowding in my mind Like a swarm of bees buzzing away killing my soul They've spun a web in my mind   But in spite of this rumpus All that exists is a void White spaces and fine lines Half written anecdotes Two words on the screen And a blank space Now my eyes feel a white light passing through them Those self destructed verses try to find a place Somewhere They need to be carved They need to be read There's no room for these unwanted thoughts I guess The teacher says turn to page number 25.
0
Mar 20, 2014
Mar 20, 2014 at 5:35 AM UTC
In the middle of nowhere
It's been sixteen days I don't have the courage to pick up a pen And ink those thousand thoughts I don't have the right words I don't have the right thoughts There are just too many of them Crowding in my mind Like a swarm of bees buzzing away killing my soul They've spun a web in my mind   But in spite of this rumpus All that exists is a void White spaces and fine lines Half written anecdotes Two words on the screen And a blank space Now my eyes feel a white light passing through them Those self destructed verses try to find a place Somewhere They need to be carved They need to be read There's no room for these unwanted thoughts I guess The teacher says turn to page number 25.
mahima-gupta-1
Written by
mahima-gupta-1
Indian
Mar 20, 2014
Mar 20, 2014 at 5:35 AM UTC
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