Art, Pen

Reasons

How many words never meet
Warmth of air,
And lose their track
In silenced corners.

Flashing emotions come and pass,
Millions per second.
We are left hazy,
Disoriented and cold.

Once in a while,
When senses bump into you,
While you are running blindfolded,
Hold on to them for a while,
And write!

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