Theres something called broken poetry,
I thought, I hold the flow of words,
But, The words denied to fall today,
And they denied , God knows why.

They are broken in every form,
subtle and Transformed views,
and worn out, My poetry needs a new soul now,
now i know, its sickness.
A long process it seemed,
or a blocked pipeline,
Like i had the void in my mind,
and an unwanted thought floated.
A Ruth, keened inside me,
All the smiles denied,
Every thought gave me a hard look,
and all the confidence shattered.
Let me unword my feelings.
all my emotions are expelled,
and my soul is wandering,
In search of a meaning.
-Silly me


