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Image by Leo Chane

My Incomplete Poem

The mind that is an empty vessel,

Always waits for the flowers of knowledge to make it full;

Those unfulfilled wishes of the year,

Have become the incomplete chapters

Of my story;

Those empty lines and incomplete verses ,

Are the forsaken dreams and unrequited thoughts of

This naïve ambitious soul.

Celebrated the New Year with a zing,

Waited to fill my memories with a brim,

Wanted to become a flaner to those lonely streets,

Wished to have a diary of poems to that of 'John Keats!'

But the story wished for it's twists and turns,

That it's happening gave me all churns;

Gaiety mind sat to write a beautiful poem,

But the clinically depressed thoughts left them

Incomplete in mayhem.

I wish I had never procrastinated the things I loved,

I wish I had written down everything that I felt;

Now those incomplete poems just fills me with load,

Where I wonder if I would ever be able to heal from this hurt?

The eve of Nouvelle* An,

Detaches me from those unfulfilled wishes;

The Soleil* of 2021 is a waking call,

That shows me where I belong;

With an Au revoir* to 2020 I jump into vers libre,*

With the lost rhyme schemes depicting the lost wishes!

*(Nouvelle An: New Year; Soleil: Sun; Au revoir: Goodbye; Vers Libre: Free verse)