01: Trying To Write A Poem

After a week of exhausting work.

I find myself, sitting in my room.

Alone again, enjoying the solitude that it brings.

The seclusion makes me want to do something.

Something, worthwhile. Something, meaningful.

Something, enjoyable. Something, good for the soul.

Something, like writing a poetry.

But here I am thinking of something nice to write.

But nothing seems to come to my mind.

Thinking, thinking, thinking. Still nothing.

No matter what I do. No matter how hard I think.

Still, nothing comes to my mind. Not even an inkling of

an idea seems to suffice in my mind.

Pondering, thinking about things. Memorable things.

Pretty things, living and non-living things. Still I'm

in limbo.

It seems useless now. Starting to think that I

couldn't write anything. Not cut out for poetry.

On the verge of giving up. But as I'm thinking about what

to write, I'm also writing my thoughts at same time.

Suddenly, this piece of writing appeared in front of me.

Written by my own hand. Could it be a poem?

Could it be even called a poem? I wonder. I was just

trying to write a poem.