Of all the gracefull maidens that magic made
of all the beautiful imagery that this land has worn
of all the intoxicating glasses of wine flowing
of the added fact that i was born,
of all the curved lanes that life's shown
of all the strange people that i've known
of all the others who've been so nice
of all the people who call earth, their abode
what do i conclude, i think, sometimes
is it simple, it is complex, terninal, benign
is it just about money, fame and luck
or does it relay on joy, space and time?
what happens when i give up, do i die right then
for a minute, till the time i pick up my pen,
isolate, gather, collect, fight
all for meaning, i write....iwrite...