And this pen is gliding!

And this pen is gliding!

 

And this pen is gliding
I am not a writer
Though I lit up while
Burning with the passion of writing
Small and big fonts of my own
Jumbling, way more than exciting
Stretching and bending in curves.

And this pen is gliding
Gliding like a paraglider
In open air, away from mountains
Bringing old stock of memories
Picking from dusted box
Been a while, untouched
Telling me, get some writing done.

And this pen is gliding
Passing with a glide
As the voice of bird chirping
In the morning, waking you up
Slowly the ink leaves it’s home
Plotting the world of words
Shaping meaning with chaos of emotions

And this pen is gliding
How am I not suppose to think about you?
I’m thinking of those stupid letters
I’ve written to you
Explaining you, effortless experience
Writing with THE fabulous pen
Because it was gliding like there’s no friction.

And this pen is gliding
How am I not suppose to write something to you?
Even Kurt is whispering his words,
“Write a poem to a friend, even a lousy poem”
Though lousy, I’ve created something
Let it off the hook and read
Because this pen is gliding.

 

Image source: Google

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Shreya Janhvi
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