Broken Poetry

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