I was Me

Every time the dusk got delayed,

Or the morning sun felt harsh,

Sound of life seemed disarrayed,

Or water disappeared in the marsh,

Loved ones took a separate turn,

Old enemies met at the crossroads,

Water started to burn,

And decrypted were all my codes,

I came to this place I now call home.

 

There is always a place for me,

Here I am always allowed to be,

The person you see every now and then.

I cannot tell you how but,

The Poet and the Pen (my blog) saved me.

I was always Me.

 

Blogging has this beautiful thing in it. It makes you feel so special, so connected to yourself. Sometimes I find out so much about so many things when I sit behind this blog and dive into the World of Words.

Blogging is a good addiction and I am addicted.

I want you to read “it”

 

I am an addict.

I cannot live without it.

An insurmountable urge from within,

Makes it impossible to quit.

It.

It here is a habit,

Which shoots my wit

And makes me unfit,

Or as they say, misfit.

To find peace I chose to commit,

To my inner voice I submit.

But atleast I am not a hypocrite,

For I have the courage to admit.

Funny, your thoughts right now,

Whispering the signs of distress.

But I never disclosed “it”.

Maybe I didn’t want to impress.

 

~ Not all addicts and addictions are bad. Mine is Writing.