I wrote...

I wrote…
I wrote…
and I wrote some more…..

I wrote my feelings,
wrote my dreams,
wrote my senses,
wrote all my screams,
I kept on writing forever it seems.

I wrote my body,
wrote my skin,
wrote my desires,
wrote all my sins,
I kept on writing the song I sing.

I wrote my questions,
wrote my doubts,
wrote my worries,
wrote all my bouts,
I kept on writing my gut out.

and then,
I wrote…
I wrote….
and I wrote some more.

..........

i wrote some more
to feel the roar
out of the pen's core

i still wrote more
hoping my heart will question no more
couldn't help that cause but my fingers sore

I then realized
the more I seek for more
will trouble me the more

so i left it for a cause
pain is best eased when I pause
but my love for pain grew to shore
that I again wrote some more !!

my work was incomplete... I intended it to be.... may be because after a point i was unable to connect the dots together. Then came along this marvelous and humble guy, who i shud mention doesn't kno "how to write poetry". Such a 'Cliché' for a guy with his talents and potential. He simply connected my random thoughts with perfect sense. Depesh, I don't have words to thank you so i will not even attempt. This is my tribute to you. Its an Honor to have your words on my insignificant rambeling space.