Once upon a time there lived this
  monk,
    who traveled far,
       and renounced everything,
           until he came to Vegas.

I had an addiction,
every word had a new connection,
reading left me with a daily fascination,
even helped me look beyond my own reflection.

I had an addiction,
every sip showed me what was perfection,
Earl Grey or English it was my much needed predilection,
even helped me imagine by recollection.

I had an addiction - maybe I have already said,
sleep it seems came only when I read,
dancing words in my half spinning head,
who knew tea could bring new thoughts when old ideas fled.

They say storms even brewed in a tea cup,
my mind was always brewing when staying up,
tea it seems calmed me and yet charged it up,
go write more books for I will have my secret potion to hold my head up.

Picture on the wall,
either mighty or small,
when your passion is on call,
go get it and give it your all.

I must be honest right now,
You do not know what I know,
You haven’t come from the same place as I did though,
You have ages to catch up to what I must show,
Yes, my superior mind always worked in comparison to others and it won’t slow.
I wonder what would make me feel good about myself if I was in an island,
and I didn’t know.

Meandering and zigzagged, they were all over the place,
I tried to search for them for I wanted to search it at my own pace,
a cruise took me over to the horizon but those lines I couldn’t retrace,
flying above ground high up in the sky and yet not a trace.
I wonder if the lines would ever go away in our minds,
and I didn’t know.

Oh, my half-baked knowledgeable mind,
maybe you know everything,
and you can teach me.

It’s a New Year and a New Decade,
nature, love and much more to be praised,
fresh canvas and new colors it’s going to be framed,
surely, belief in us will paint the way we want it shaped.

I had a broken bicycle that was in red,
found a new way to contain my sorrow instead,
salvaging the tire got me ahead,
rolling it with a wooden stick I had painted in red.

Famous I became known as the tireless one,
I saved it in my shed to play every day save none,
friends told me wish they had my cheeky grin,
although I wished I was older to buy a shiny new one.

Every spoke of the wheel spoke to me,
I knew exactly the missing ones and there were three,
I haven’t loved anything to this degree,
a new one was in the shed not knowing I was an ardent devotee.

My red wooden stick would stay with me,
telling my dad he can ride the bike like it was a plea,
becoming that creature of comfort as far as I can see,
for I wasn’t ready to hang my tire yet on the summertree.

Self-belief is the
    best belief,
        God forbid. :)