Write else you will never know who you are or who you are not
It is you talking to yourself, else you are chalk and cheese to you.
You are like the double-agent presenting a fallacy to the world and you
I regret why I did not cling to the pencil when my eyes were forming impressions.
I write now, the pages my only non-judgmental ever-lasting companion
You take the burden of my shoulders, the load of my chest.
I pen down thoughts which no one understands
I scribble down random plots, weaving stories in my brain.
My intermittent breaks from you have turned me into a forlorn lover
Blessed are those souls who found you and seek solace at your doorstep.
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