Admirer

By Garvita Singh

Scribbling a pencil,

She often writes.

On some loose abandoned sheets,

At least, she tries.

She's buried behind a pile,

I behold her eyes.

Holding up a notebook, she covers her work.

She sits in the corner. Two walls meet and she hides.

Just ashamed or just embarrassed or afraid maybe,

Of being judged to open up her imaginations wild.

Hard to see, harder to ignore

I see her every day, yet never saw her before.

She dozes off, and I admire.

My finger runs an outline in the air.

My gaze falls upon some words,

The paperweight seems to erode a layer.

Flutters a page and I pick it up.

Now words form the brand-new nub.

The words that seem to bring a rain,

Upon me and the whole of world.

I fish out a few more pages,

And a whole universe unfurled.

I cry, and then I smile.

Anonymous, she writes.

By Garvita Singh