Just a beginninng

Yeah it cant done or undone..

Its taking me to the way its cant be hidden..

Writing to the word i still wait for..

Each and every pass i lived for..

Being in life or life beyond  meh..

Confused ,stucked and seeing..

Did i ever write down what i felt?

Or its just a beginning or writing till the end?

Not to give up as already taken up..


Lets wait n watch while sitting on the couch...

This poem is about: 


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