A poem I sit to write On a paper that is white
I fill my pen with ink
And sit to think
I look through the window
At the seven coloured rainbow
At the mountain, I look
Searching every corner, every nook
I look at the trees
That swing in the breeze
I look for an inspiration
With growing irritation
I try my luck again
But all in vain
Itz not a lucky day
To myself I say
Suddenly it sound as my brain working
Some where a poem breaking
After thirty minutes of irritation
This is my presentation !
