Monday, 13 August 2012

Breaking Free

For many-a-days, idle remained,
My pen and my book of poems.
For I was at a strange new place,
Far away from my home.

I was thrilled, also scared,
Eager, but also worried.
For never, was I spared,
Of the surprises that I met here.

I was free for the first time ever,
But so was I alone, anxious and cold.
Days seemed to go on forever and ever.
And I missed my home, my room and more.

A poetic block (!) wrapped around my soul,
Making it shiver in its gripping hold.
To break free of which, I have to be bold,
And find, I did now, an escape of some sort.

My old sheen, I haven't regained,
Which, in time, I'm sure I will.
And once again will I start to write,
Merely looking over a window sill.


  1. Nice work :) :) I am starting to feel that each poem of yours is like a small chapter of your life.

  2. nice one bro :) :)....keep wishes

  3. @Shyamettan: Thanx bro.. :)
    @Varada: When I don't find anything around me to write about, I look into myself.... :) :)

  4. That's what I like about your poems.