Every Night

You claim to be a poet, the actions of your night.

When you take out a paper, to fly words like a kite.

Calming down your nerves, soft music yet quiet.

But, pen doesn’t meet your paper, imagination out of sight.

You try to change your mood, music reaches emotional height.

And now you write and scratch, because words are having a fight.

Inside your big grown brain, As confusion strikes you tight.

You need to choose your words, they may define your future bright.

Still frustration out of mood, as you want to be a knight.

With sword of ink and sheet as shield, claiming victory being polite.

And there you being so clueless, what happened you tonight?

With several rhyming words and lines, you fool! You dont know how to write?

You feel defeated, into darkness, fallen out of light.





Crashing bed with blankets on, moment of your flight.

Yet dreaming being a poet, future which seems right.

You sleep beyond the fantasy island, story of my night.