It Is Something

It is something
that bothers me,
beats me down.

I wonder what it is?
Left cluleless, I stagger
and am knocked down.

That something all the while,
keeps me awake. I swoon
and turn inert.

I strive  to interpret.
Confines to wilderness, helpless
unable to resolve.

The something could be nothing
a voice prompts. Bewildered,
I glance around. Discern nobody.



By meenas17

A lover of classical Carnatic music.
An avid reader, passionate writer, into stocks and investments for livelihood

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