From the "JACK OF ALL TRADES & MASTER OF NONE" Dozens of novels Sit in the hall To be received with love & Pour their hearts out I peek at them clandestinely With guilt, once in a while Tell them to wait some more From the corner of my eyes. Emotion-dipped words Run through my mind And a blank page holding my collar Urges me to write. I promise to ink it Once I get the time Knowing it all to be a lie But not admitting to it, My disability to write. (Continued in the caption) A Foreign speech That loved my lips Requests me, to let it sit Just like the days When we used to play Learning with each other Our sounds & scripts.