Words

They just don't come out anymore..

.. words.

Each sense is felt with child-like sincerity..

Memory chooses to play memory.

Nostalgia has a pain that reminds me of a friend,

Someone I've never had. But have only longed to.

The sunrise is beautifully hopeful.
The sunset, brutally truthful.

Overwhelmed. A cup just a bit more than, half full.

What am I suppose to do when I look at, feel something beautiful?

They just don't come out anymore..

..my words.

I have a voice but it doesn't speak.

A heart is needed. Preferably one that doesn't bleed.

I write now, out of greed.

I seek nothing more than to just truly understand peace.

It's taken long but my words are now trying to learn to speak.

They will learn to speak.

My words... They will speak.

- Abhay Chopra