I was flowing with the watery pace
All the thoughts were held in the backspace,
But now my words are on my notepad with never before grace,
From the backspace to turning into a poem
I think my feelings had got the right place.
Now the sketchbook has all the colours present in my psyche,
The paintings might look hushed but have a weird squeak,
I've taken all my perception to a never-ending peak
Wherewith tranquillity, my untamed imagination speak.
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