I’m shut within myself
Thoughts escaping
From my mind
But my hand could take a tour

A tour to the world of words
And make my thoughts words
Words to liberate the world
From its wayward ways

I could hear my heart
Speaking out with passion
But my pen was lying tired on the floor
Lost appetite for words

I could hear my sense, reasoning
Communing with my inner being
But the ink within me is dead
To explore the world of words

Yes, I walk freely
But the me in me is jailed
Jailed within me
No one to bail him out

Yes, he is in
I mean the writer
The writer who writes with left and right
Is jailed within me, camped tight

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