Art, Pen
Loophole in The Mind

Loophole in The Mind

White canvas laughed at me,

mocked my imagination

and insulted my colors.

I looked at it for hours,

just to get sucked in its limitless depth.

Silence inside the room was an introvert.

Didn’t want me to meet all those

pitter-pattering raindrops who hugged

and slid on the window glass

and I stood by my old friend,

just to go deaf by its inaudible melodies.

Blank page and a full pen,

any writer’s worst nightmare.

Half filled cups and some coffee rings on the table,

like footprints of a lost wanderer,

told a tragic story of hollow emotions,

and a strangled past.

I am running round and round on the same path,

I am writing over and over again on the same page.

After setting free few characters I longed to be,

I am trapped inside those Coffee Rings.

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Trapped Inside The Coffee Rings

Aside

One thought on “Trapped Inside The Coffee Rings

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