Whenever I pick up My Pen
The time gets hanged,
Brain completely blocks and clock runs
Numerous thoughts but special nones.
Weird colourful thoughts always attack
Blue or red, white or black
What to write, will it be right?
It’s better to keep it aside.
Lack of thoughts could be a reason
But here it is clearly opposite season,
Ocean of thoughts are hopping on me
That crowed boats you can’t see.
About daily chores or special event
Inspirational, positive or full of lament,
About precious life, mine or yours?
Past or future or about present cores.
Pissed with thoughts like jammed drawers
Beauty or nature, I’m still looking for,
Loss in thoughts, now and then
Whenever I pick up My Pen.
…………….
-Archana Jha