Spirit of a writer
Sometimes I write about my deepest secrets keeping it sheltered from the world, other times I write for the world to read.
I write to reveal my sorrows and pains and to relive my pleasures and smiles.
I write to express with a little hope to impress.
I write with a wish for change and a belief of being the one to make it.
I write about the thorns as well as roses for one is incomplete without other.
I write about the cruel reality though at times I write to escape the reality.
Sometimes I pour my heart into the writing while other times when tired and angry with this world, I write a piece of my mind.
Writing is like a drug and I confess to be an addict.
Writing has made me realize that world is not black and white. There are greys from the stormy clouds and blues from the depth of oceans and greens from the new budding leaves and yellows from the sun and reds from the burning flames and browns from the earth and all together, they make a perfect picture.
Writing has made me fall in love with the words and made what I'm today, an