The mind is bare of thoughts,
The writing seeks for words,
An uneasy gusto retraces ,
A little pity seeps up,
What to write and what not?
Often it recurs with a flash,
The desire to write surfs up,
Quelling the mind’s stubbornness,
I write, i write,still to keep me going,
As it is a therapy that keeps me active.
Meenas Poems 