She wasn't all brains and writing was not to earn grains.
She dreamt and yearned to be a writer.
definitely, not a normal one,
but a writer who would be looked up to and envied by
every soul on earth.
She was nineteen and was still not a reputed writer,
she thought she was striving to become one,
but there were not any efforts done,
She kept thinking all night as to what she could write,
never did she get any concepts bright.
When she had a concept to write, she searched for words,
and when there were words, she diverted her mind to birds,
she would roam all day long swapping the concepts she had.
Her goals were fab, but what she did was bad,
she wouldn't listen to her heart that was speaking out loud.
Rather, she would torture her bashful brain to speak up for her.
It was then she realised that writing was not about the thoughts,
It was all about emotions mastered by the hearts.
And then she knew she had to listen to her heart to write,
From then on, the striving writer became the thriving one.
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