Manuscript
I keep... Some idle words, Few hollow lines, By my bedside. Half past midnight, I write some more... While few smile at me, Standing at my door... Puzzled by this random rush, I search for the meaning within. I adopt the simple versions, The ones which touch my skin. I flip the chapters of my life, My life looks like an ashtray. I puffed every bit out of it, But, I sing it as a ballet. I write...I will continue to... Everyday shaping my endeavor. With my words I'm immortal, In them...I will live forever and ever...