The Power Of A Pen Poem by Vidur Mohta

When I feel down, on the low,
No amount of cheer can get me to glow,
When each word seems a tirade,
Ears numb, and faces like charade.

I revert to my pen and paper,
Inscribing all till apprehensions are vapour,
Laying bare all that is to dole,
My weary thoughts on a scroll.

So relinquishing it is, liberation,
Writing connotes therapy, of huge proportion,
Alleviating our crushed spirits,
Like a tune having uplifting lyrics.

Dewy-eyed while writing,
Leaving smudges on paper,
Which dry in time with sun's scorching heat,
Leaving you again raring and upbeat.

Appending indelible ink on paper,
Gives indefinite reference to labour,
And all that you put down vehemently,
Stores all the pain felt permanently.

Solace it gives, all woes burned,
A quick remedy - for one who is shunned,
Whoever partakes it, exonerated they become,
From whatever pain they were inflicted by one.

Vindication becomes inevitable,
Through the power of writing,
Leaving one beaming once again,
And shining brightly.