Sunday, June 2, 2019

Start

I’ve been trying to write from a week now and I haven’t written much.
I wonder if this happens when you don’t write for yourself?
Death throngs this mobile keypad, my fingers are careful than ever!
I am trying to inject life.
Words will come and soon they will start to make sense
Till then let me flush this rubbish out.
Words will come , carefree and true!
How long can I sleep like a deer?
Everyday the sun must burn the blue of the sky
And the white smoke must disappear into the ocean
And the night must reveal its true colour
I don’t hate light, but there’s more to life after sunset
I like to pick the colours of my words in the dark.
And this is the beginning of a long night
Can’t wait to lit it up alive.

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