If you ask me
Why do I indulge in poetry?
Why do I spend endless hours
In search of apt words
To suit to the framework of ideas dangling in my mind?
May be I have no answer to offer
As to why I love this tantalising art
That cannot even assure a loaf of bread.
They rightly say-
There is a strange connection
Between Poetry & Poverty.
Yet, there is some solace
In the bosom of it.....
That drags me with its magnetic charm.
Fancies and fantasies and sleepless nights...
To sate the real man living within me...
Poetry is my precious possession,
My eye in the dark, ear during Silence...
My true companion to combat Solitude and sleeplessness.