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;

Scribbles?

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