It’s nothing much,
Just a feeble try to convey how deeply I felt,
Words that so easily get my heart to melt,
If only there was a way to put it all away,
And start afresh the next day.
I know you are trying to relate,
And that’s the reason I put my heart on this god damned slate,
These words might stick to you or not,
Yet a piece of me definitely stays out there to rot.
It’s a writer’s pain etched in stone,
Crushing the wound into the very bone,
Does it pain to read the way it pained to write?
Or was this a fateful defeat I had to fight?