MY PEN RUNS DRY
My voice is confined by these walls,
From dusk to dawn,
My voice goes down,
Not with a frown but a smile.
You said you will come,
A week ago, is the date I had crammed,
I have waited till my brain said no.
I promised to pen a rhyme a day,
And give you page after page,
But my pen runs dry,
For you my hopes are high.
The warder peeps at me,
The cheap cigarette smoke irks my nose,
Though I can’t say a word,
Because he may change his mind,
And that would be a break to my heart,
A seal to a decision of not seeing you.
You ignited a fire deep in me,
And in the depths of this prison cell,
Your absence is an odor,
I need a fragrance,
A fragrance of your presence.
Let me pen a rhyme,
But come first,
For my pen runs dry