Welcome to Echoes, a compilation of Poems. This one goes by the name, Infertility. This poem is solely left for the readers to interpret it in whichever they want. As for me, while writing it, I had these thoughts running while penning it down.

One lonely night she comes to a realization that her mind is completely unproductive. She is neither able to think nor conceive any idea, which in turn increases her level of frustration. She therefore longs for someone, who will prove to be her source of inspiration, which will help her to see the brighter perspective of life and eventually set her thoughts in working order.

Thanks for reading. Stay tuned. Follow to know more @cherrythinks

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Infertility

photo credit: dina

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The night came, and
I too again with my solitude, stood still there.
Like any other day
Gazed at the sky and wondered,
when are my stars going to take up their positions,
to help me get things right.

Messed up with life,
I rape my mind every night,
to get the fruitful outcome.
But to me it seems,
my mind has lost its fertility,
which is not letting my abilities to conceive.

My Frustration is gaining strength,
My grip is loosening
I'm again scared,
My senses are turning Infertile.

Lost in the crowd, I too long for eyes
which will refill my Fertility,
so that, I can
rape my mind again,
my abilities can conceive again
and my solitude can die again.

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©Echoes