The Lost Starry Sky
A black blanket above me, with small spots – the stars,
Some twinkling, some shooting, looking as though at wars;
Far off, I hear the sea roar,
And occasionally tearing blanket a shooting star soar;
As it where it where to teach me!
Giving me the freedom – The white dots on a black paper;
With my creative ink – draw I could, linking the dots;
Not bound only by my thoughts,
I created structures in the sky;
With just dots and my creative eye.
My childlike innocence today looks like nonsense!
A busy day, and a tiered night
Within the four wall I see no light!
My bound mind’s eye, – Now sees no more;
The structures I created are just a thought turned sore;
Evaluating today, I create;
I say some good, some bad; some possible some difficult;
The sieve of prudence, and convention has just let go of the fluid mind;
All I have today is bound by the routine, the definite; limiting me!
No dots to connect, all I look at today is only walls that bind
– Chi
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In this poem, I have tried to get to the table 2 aspects which I closely feel about
- The lost child hood creativity and it being replaced by the routine life of a grown up
- The Evaluative Mindset of a grown up which kills our joy of creatively looking at the situation we are in
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