By Hardik Jain
The rush that fills my senses
When I put words to stagnant air,
The high I get from putting pen to journal
ls simply something, nothing can compare.
My soul unwrapped and bare
In dripping, overflowing odes,
Offered to others unfiltered
Richly brewed and exposed.
Poetry is my spark
My wick and my wax,
It lights me up, burns bright, and smoulders
Fantasy, dreams, prayers, and facts.
Unlike most people
I see beauty in black and white,
The scratches on paper or clicks on keyboards
A tempo that brings pure delight.
Music to my ears and flow to my soul
Lyrics put to tones,
This a well-timed movie quote.
Rhythm in the atmosphere
They harbour my old soul.
Love in the written word
Font dark and bold,
It's the fuel to my fire.
Hand me a match &
Watch what transpires.
A heart stitched and patched
So, if you see a photograph
That takes your breath away,
That's what poetry is to me
That's what I live for each day.
By Hardik Jain
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