Don’t fill up the pages with garbage
Have some respect for those pristine spaces
Allow the ink to purify the true feelings
Wait, before spilling them over in a hurry
Wasting their potency on negativity
Ink can revive the words with hopeful mantra
Chronicle the stories with humility
Seeing the ink lose its power over creativity
Is painful to the eyes seeking poetic rhythm
Integrating nonsense devalues feelings
Fashioning them with frivolousness is passé
A poetic journey is seeking the truth
Exposing the frailties of words
To determine a path of poetic wonder
Resting peacefully on the white canvas
~Amitav
Our poetry, our religion.
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