Work, work, work,
knock, knock, knock,
toiling will not stop knocking
even though I closed the door to scribbles
It will never stop knocking.
I stopped breathing
the day scribbles stopped knocking;
Security doesn’t cease,
love I will follow,
Food on my table,
Clothes cover my nudity,
Self-actualization cometh but I wasn’t satisfied.
The height that I reached and
scribbles got me to the highest triangle,
Scribbles! Scribbles! Scribbles.
I don’t know what to call this neither can I remember why I wrote it which was about 15 years ago and somehow found it in my collection. It reminds me of how I used to think back in those days😀😏…always wanted to scribble something down.
I used to have a book for poems which got burnt when I was in the University and then I stopped writing for a very long time because I felt exhausted from the sad fire incident that took all my properties except me but I’m way over that now…thank God🥰😋
Have fun lovely people😚😉🤪
Image Credit: pixabay