And You Ask Me Why I Write
AND YOU ASK ME WHY I WRITE?
And you ask me, why I write?
Maybe you don’t see the world,
As I see it’s not a blue pearl.
Maybe you don’t dream it,
Like I do, defying all odds across my wit.
Maybe you don’t fear the darkness,
As I feel, in spite of denying emptiness.
Lost in transaction can’t find myself anywhere,
Sometimes when I look up, no one’s beside nowhere.
Even you aren’t there, not that I expect!
Considering everyone a friend; their support I respect.
So I find myself taking time out among this chaotic charade,
I took a paper and penned down this drowsy poetic reward.
I just let loose, as I don’t pry,
Don’t worry! It’s not my thing to sit and cry,
You might be wondering why I’m so drowned in demise,
Knee-deep in saddening waves;
But at scenic view I see a sun rise.
I can play a variety of role,
Depending upon the fate I meet.
Trying to emulate;
pace of time which I ought to beat.
Apart from all this,
All I ask for is redemption in the end.
Well life’s not that hard,
Since I got some people like you,
I can count upon and call a “great friend”.
PRATEEK SHUKLA.
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