By Anushree Chakraborty
Oops the space is full,
can’t produce more.
Just had a medicine,
Yet can’t escape anymore.
A little girl found it fascinating seeing the keys of the laptop,
hoping to do fun stuff when she grows.
I wish to tell her, not to hurry into it,
That thinking will once convert into a tired living.
Exhausted from grasping and grasping,
even dreaming of thoughts.
Nothing valuable is generating,
As the machine is getting bogged.
It needs a repair now,
Clearing up some space.
Stuck in the monotony,
working in a self-made maze.
Only nature can rescue me,
nurture me with its purity.
This fullness in my head is now hurting.
All I need is to breath it out once and for all,
to the only being who understands me.