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 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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