The Reason


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I wouldnt call myself a poet
I dont know if my words
have reached out to people yet
It hardly matters since I do not write for fame
Neither do I write for money
There is enough crisis
And people would rather pay for fun
And porn than catharsis
I wouldnt call myself a poet
My words dont always rhyme
Just like now
I write because I love to store memories in ink
As time goes by
Thoughts can be overwhelming at times
And at times run dry
I write to keep them fresh
As I watch the dense mist
Change colours with days
I write so I can always see
What I was and what I am going to be
I wouldnt call myself a poet today
But may be I can someday

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3 thoughts on “The Reason”

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