Stuck in a cubicle, between worksheets,
He dies every day, his heart bleeds.
The mind is weary, body tired,
Deadlines to be met, burying desires.
Must go on for the sake of the pay cheque
The bank balance is a reality check.
One day, it so dawns on him
"It is not working out!"
His heart says in a silent scream
Paper and pen, scribbles in vain,
At last, he smiles at the break of dawn,
Like a phoenix, a poet is born.
~ SURANYA
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