Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Writes

I need to write in my blog so much,
every funny story, every naughty deed,
every hopeful wish and every poetic feed
But nowadays when I take up my pen to write,
nothing comes to mind, nothing bright

Have I grown old, I wonder
Have I stopped seeing the beauty
in what I need to believe in,
Have I stopped finding it beautiful,
every small thing, as it had first been

As I pause to wonder, if my
writing will ever come back,
as I pause to look at, what I
have scribbled over this writing pad

I saw what was familiar,
phrases and paragraphs,
rhythm and small verses,
showing beauty's epitaph

How wonderful it felt, to write
like how it had once been
I realised I grew up, but without
giving up any dreams

And that my dear friend,
is the beauty of life,
Inspiration and Solace,
comes to those who strive

A moment's look, a meaningful phrase,
a sweetened memory, and well deserving praise

These cherished feelings, come not cheap,
As you work through life and every deed,
comes the beauty you know of,
with a sudden leap




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