In morning’s gentle light, I rise with the sun, A daily routine, a rhythm, begun. With coffee’s warm embrace, I start the day, To chase my dreams, in my own unique way Through hours that follow, tasks neatly align, A dance of duties, a life…

I’m being released by my own congnizence this morning, that, rhyming naturally is harder than it’s made to look. No warnings issued, but a few fellow poets clanked on my cell to let me know I’d been seen, and I did likewise. I hope, as…

Running through the grass whipping around my face wind howling behind me while the darkness consumes chasing me rounding the curves I cut through the grass even as it is chasing me it is still running

Violins play from my phone I breathe in time I hate this part of the week but this must be done   I disinfect the area ready a second swab if needed Pull the cap from the injection pen and rest it on my thigh…

I am living in someone else’s house Decorations meant to soothe but sharp edges cut my consciousness None of this is mine and while I am here I must care for it Doorknobs run on electricity and cameras viewing the outside world I will be…

Hope isn’t just 4 lettered word It is beyond that. It is uncertainty, affirmation, a mix of everything yet nothing. I see hope in colours, in speeches, in pauses, in the eyes. Maybe, 26 alphabets arent enough to describe it. It opposes perfection yet surpasses…

Sometimes I hear him at the back of my mind or I hear him in an empty room his hand inhabits mine and guides me to a calmer state   I see him in the mirror when I look too quickly and unguarded his eyes…

Running on empty. Running out of time. Always running, rarely resting. Now I’m running out of rhyme.

Well, well, well, hour 24. I hadn’t thought of what to write. I had no plans for 24. I didn’t know if I’d use any poetic devices. I didn’t know how I would form my prose. I just wanted to celebrate as I wrote this…