To Forge an Art- Tasmia Khan

by Tasmia Khan
Along the narrow street bathed in sodium light, I stroll,
Amid the three-wheeled rickshaws and small houses my eyes wander.
I behold the night and
Tried to produce verse,
Tried to think of theme,
But, I must write!
Whether I write or not,
I want to be a poet!

I sat at the table.
Under a dimly lit lamp,
White paper stretched open.
Tried to produce a poem,
To impose feelings into words,
To create image after image.
I know how to rhyme!
Why couldn’t I write?
But my mind laughed at me,
Reproached me!
“Doctors’ prescriptions and verses are not the same things!”
Yet I try,
I try,
I fail.

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