There may not be an alternative pen to compose the secret feelings
Sighing within like a forlorn lover; wishing to immerse in the sympathetic ink
Echoes will be penned by the pen that glides assuredly across the page
When listening isn’t happening anymore, writing comes to the rescue
Sitting near the dull flames to ignite the tired soul from deep slumber
Hoping, the memoir will be read by someone, even if it is a curious glance
The dream of giving voice to the inner world comes true
~Amitav
I enjoyed reading this, Amitav ○(・x・)○ Keep it up!
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Thank you so much. Glad, you liked this poem. 🙂
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