When you read too many novels, your ideal life has become more of a fiction than reality. When we read too much, we often forget to write and live our own story, we often forget that our book is as vintage as the best book ever written. This poem is all about that..
Surrounded by different kinds of book
An epoch isn’t enough to take a look
And no, you just can’t open each and all
Its grandeur is like a Masquerade Ball
Pick one that you think is best
The one that outweighs the rest
Open it up and see what’s inside
It is a world where you can confide
You flip the page and find that it’s blank
Would’ve been better if there’s an Ankh
There are no chapters, just blank pages
Won’t dissipate to dust and ashes
Take a pen and start to scribble
Until each word starts to burble
Write your own chapters that don’t age
This is your story, it’s vintage.
when words blend 