The Purse

The diary of my working days

During my living

My melodic dream I longed for

Sprouted in me

The nature of the self-appraisal

With my life stunning in vivid shades

I scribbled the poetry.

In the blank paper

Of my innermost minds.

 

I grasped �" you and me

Quite distinctly

Highest in morality

Topmost in significance

This lust of mine

Smashed these words

Of this poetry of mine

In numerous forms

In several fragments.

 

These words I etched

Shattered all over the grounds

may spin out in futility

I amassed them into my purse

And constrain meticulously its mouth.

 

Eventually,

At the moment when I set myself

Selecting and

Choosing each words

In the winnow of my inner minds

The similes of the words

Revive and breathe as it’s again

In the poetry of mine.

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