What do I write about you?

With my limited vocabulary,

Lack of right words 'n' rhyming pairs

With spellings relying solely upon softwares,

As my dumb pen, struggles to make sense

With the boastful ink of inexperience?

You’ve already been written about, a million times

Your glories have been sung,

Enough metaphors established,

All aspects acknowledged, time ‘n’ again refurbished

In better ways, by better ‘poets’?

Do I even call myself one?

Do I write about…

Your brine-laden misty spray

That left my spectacles blurred, that sunny day,

As I stood at your sandy edge, scared,

With feet too timid to touch your might?

Pity my so called idea of vision, of the outside!

Or do I talk about...

Your vibrant melody, that sings of a lifeline,

Your soulful rhythm, so divine!

As your waves lapped over one another,

Calling to me incessantly in a row,

Regardless of my repeated denials to let go?

Or do I write about...
The drawings I tried to make on your damp sands
Names, doodles, self-declarations,
The ones I was so proud of, chasing praise,
A lame desire to show-case,
That your waves gushed in, to dissolve 'n' wipe off in no time?

Or do I sing about…

The colorful shells and oysters

I collected bowing down to you,

Just a little sun-kissed token, piece to view,

From the huge spectra of lives

On your gem-studded chest, that thrives?

Or do I just put my pretentious pen down,

Keep my fake poeticism for another day in the town!

Walk into and embrace your untamed spirit,

Let my uniform get drenched in your blue,

Let you wash off what tie me down to the shores

Pointless self-contours, egoistic shut doors?

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