Normal life of an inquisitive writer

Literally entranced in silence,
While hiding the fragile look,
With glasses as a cover up,
Of her real intentions,
She gazes around calmly,
Looking for her next big thing,
Shakespear,Alfred Tennyson,Mobby Dick,
Great writers and brilliant minds,
Always ready to inspire new words,
The only things that calm her tensed self,
Before major events,
Yes this is it she thinks,
Time has value at the moment,
Pulling down on her skirt,
And rises to begin her search,
Youre one heck of a girl she smirks,
Making her way to the guests,
Lovely,young and petite,
All combined with a natural aura,
She flows till shes content,
To retire to her house,
Day well spent id presume she says,
I might as well relax before writing,
I’ll never be satisfied with this,
What to do ,what to do,
Part of her normal life routine,
Though a lovely figure unbeknown,
Never thought of her future beyond words,
She never learnt the little things,
That makes a girl happy,
Maybe thats just me she says,
Well my dear what about dating,
No,il be seen as too weak,
She translates her thoughts,
Atleast i got my work,
Every weekday in office,
All nights calm and resolute,
They never satisfy me,
Her life works in order and routine,
Which she terms satisfying,
What if she tried someone out of her zone,
Who sees the world in a different view,
Maybe that would work,
Its never late to try,
Oh well,what have i got to loose.


2 thoughts on “Normal life of an inquisitive writer”

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