• Never thought I'd be a writer
    But I'm the end result
    Of ruthless criticizers
    With their inhumane insults

    I miss
    The bliss
    Of being contented
    huddled
    and
    cuddled
    and never resented

    But those days have past
    As so will these
    Nothing last
    When surrounded by theives

    People you trust
    Will desert you later
    Till all be dust
    Or pen and paper

    They left me a writer
    A frequent pencil biter
    A thoughtful thinker
    An scenario linker
    A weaver of words
    A voice unheard
    The distant outsider
    They left me a writer

    -Maryam