Pic: Self

i write and i write
but my words,

they just can’t seem
to fly,

and eventually
of what use are they to me,

if they can’t
even dent your defences,

so i blow and blow
over the written sheets,

hoping for a helpful breeze
to soon pass by,

lifting them off
with their intent,

and dropping them off
as raindrops,

to wherever
you choose to hide,

each verse a cloudburst
and each a reminder to you,

that as many
as i may write,

they are but versions
of the same story.

Β© vidursahdev 2020

9 thoughts on “Fly Away

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