An empty space comes within
Went to a place where she had been
The heart beats faster,& tears are frozen,
And words could not be spoken.
Some poems cannot be written
It seems like she lost her pen,
And the story goes on with out an end,
Just like the author who hides and pretends.
She has done hundred poems,
A passion for writing as tough as bricks and stones,
But there is a missing piece left at dawn,
Nobody gets it and take it back to the throne.
Shes 's not a a genius like Joyce Kilmer
Nor has a brilliant mind like Geoffrey Chaucer,
She's just an ordinary person with lots of fear,
All brought out through writings,my dear.
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