This empty page, it's staring at me,
Trying to lure me into writing something.
Anything, in the times when I am lonely,
Can be a beautiful or a crappy thing.
This empty page, it is trying to tell me
That it really wants to hear my stories,
That it cares for my successes, and my worries,
Whenever I think, that I am just solitary.
This empty page turned out to be
Like a long lost friend, who's now totally free,
To hear all of my irrelevant jabbering<,br> About fresh and new depressing stories.
This empty page, does it complain? No!
Because it is not the kind of friend to do so.
That's why it remains all ears,
To my languishing pains 'bestowed' by the past years
This empty page is slowly getting filled,
With the ink of the gel pen getting spilled,
In the form of messages and thoughts,
Which, for me, were the haunting forget-me-nots.
This empty page is wholeheartedly thanking me
For venting out ALL emotions fully and truthfully
And now, I am thanking it time and again
For making me feel as light as feather in the air...
Kazi Fernaaz Feroze, 17, St.George's School, New Delhi.
Born in Kolkata, I shifted to Delhi in 2005 as my father got transferred. You see, when I get emotionally overwhelmed, poetic ideas fill up my mind, and then I begin to have this urge to jot it down. So in this way, I write poems. My hobbies are: writing poems, drawing, singing, all alone, and most important of all, checking out new English and Hindi songs.
When you willfully throw your conscience in a dustbin Then realize you are being controlled from within By anger, a dangerous and...