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I have known much sorrows
And anxiety knows my biography
I plop myself, heavily, on this sofa
And take a tour
Pensively through the memory lane
Fate, where lies thy magic wand?
Fate has planted weeds of emotions
To overgrow my memory
And hordes of pain graze on it
In no nomadic nature.
They have pitched tents.
Everyday, I stroll, solitarily
And mindlessly on this lane
I am nothing again
But my remains
Whatever was left of me.
Suddenly, on this littered memory
Clutterd by sorrows
I ran into it.
I saw where the wand had lain.
Pent-up and lonely in this pen
My anxiety and sorrows
I convert to ink
Flowing on this white island called paper.
Your reviews are welcome and appreciated.
Thanks.
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Thanks bro
Your words and line is always on point.
Lol. Thank you sir
Your ways with words are just amazing...
Thank you. I bet you have better ways I can learn from. I appreciate.
I like it. The last stanza is good imagery. :)
Thanks. I'm glad you loved it. I couldn't help the powerful imagery. That evocation had to be poured somewhere.
Well composed
Great job man!👍
Thanks bro
Wow
Nice
Really love it
Forgerrit, you good.. Lol
Lol. Thank you so much.
This is really nice, your choice of words.. Everything.. You are good.
Nma, thanks for always supporting me. I'm glad you fancy the diction. I was a little scared it was too personal.