While I while my time away,
While I got nothing to say
I wonder why my pen runs on paper
It hasn't always been this way.
When I've got a cold
and I cant sing a song,
I sit with a beautiful diary
and my pen just runs along,
Searching for something worthwhile to say
While I while my time away.
At night as on my bed I lay,
It hasn't been a really long day,
and as I wait for my spirits to ebb,
I feel tired, but not my nib.
Sleepily in my sheets I curl,
But my fantasy poem needs one last twirl.
"What's worthwhile in you?", I say.
She says, "I whiled your time away! :)"
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5 comments:
where did you learn to write such beautiful poetry ga ketaki??
you can publish these you know.. khup chaan aahet, all of them!
nice!
I am just glad you write a blog!!
It is always a pleasure to see a new post on your blog .. infact, now I find myself looking forward to them :)
i dont blame you for looking forward to them.
sometimes, when its the only communication from someone, you tend to cling to it :)
Call you some time :)
and what about me???? mala kadhi call karnaar?
:'(
katti!
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