By Tamanna Gupta
The words stumble out
Do we choose to be poets?
People are broken toys
by heart, by soul, by self.
Always thrown by someone close
Some poets are made due to
strife and pain,
Some are borne out of
love and hope,
all because they can turn anything into
beautiful phases.
If you look closely,
poets are starving creatures
There are neglected feelings,
they feed upon
To bleed through ink
And leave their stories imprint
on the pages.
By Tamanna Gupta
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