My Passion

Writing for me is a passion
I do it with no lamentation.
Am no common writer,
Neither am I a pretender.
I have got class,
And am here to last
If you give me the chance,
I would kiss words and make them dance.
Though I might not always write right,
Or even write tight,
But don’t be in fright,
Or take to flight.
Just use your foresight,
And picture me in the spotlight.

Writing is like kissing,
You have to close your eyes to enjoy the feeling,
Else you would miss the sweet sensation,
That comes with the emotion.
Writing is a talent,
From which you shouldn’t relent.
You should use it to express your mind,
You never know when it will become a goldmine.
Don’t force it,
Just try to feel it,
Then let it flow,
And soon your trumpet will blow.
Though for now I write for free,
But soon I will charge a fee.

Poet? Writer? Well, whatever,. . . . .I just love writing

I wanted to be rich and famous,
With a name that is not anonymous,
To enjoy the best things in life,
Married to a beautiful wife.
Driving the best wonders on wheels,
and guaranteed of my daily meals.
So i looked up the list of professions,
But my mind was caught up in confusion,
Asking people for recommendation,
only help increased my heart's commotion.
i decided to think things through on my own,
so that the decision would be my own.
I thought long and hard on what to do,
But none of the professions I saw was cool.
My mind yearned for something as natural as nature,
That would relate to any culture.
I tried my hand at singing,
But of notes and lyrics I had no inkling
I tried to draw,
But it seems I had hands made of claws.
I tried to be a politician,
But it was not honest enough as the profession of a technician.
I tried my hand at boxing,
But I ended up with so much beating.
I tried dancing,
But I felt like a chicken flapping
I tried to be a teacher,
But got rejected by my own daughter.
I tried my hand at cooking,
but i seems to always cook what i was burning
Then I tried writing,
And I enjoyed it like kissing.
So I weighed my options,
With a view of solving my heart’s commotion.
I gave serious thought to be becoming a poet,
It made me feel like a flirt.
Could I really become famous by writing poems?
Is that not like getting high on petrol fumes?
What could I write about?
I asked people around.
I wrote about money,
But my lines were simply corny.
I wrote about love,
But I was still on love’s learning curve
I wrote about how to eat honey,
Well, at least my lines were pretty funny.
So I decided to just flow naturally,
Not letting my lines be done too carefully,
I stayed to enjoy myself,
This I must confess.
Thus writing became my passion,
though not yet my profession