It used to be so hot,
bubbling with so much enthusiasm.
That no matter how lazy I am,
I pick it up and sip.
The tea that used to heal my soul,
warm my heart.
Reassurance and a source of hope.
But why have you turned cold
like my heart?
Why have you become weak
like my soul.
The tea that used to be my source of succour,
why have you turned to what makes me cry?
I long for your warmth again,
I long for the happiness you bring.
You brought to me a new world,
a kind of happiness I never experienced,
you gave me the confidence I never imagined to have.
Will you just turn cold after making me experience all this?
Will you cast yourself out,
after making me go through such bliss?
What do I do to have you to be served hot to me again?
Whom shall I plead with to make you come to me again?
My tea of writing
please do not turn cold,
renew yourself,
get hot again, I don't mind hotter
and never grow cold again.
Just let me be myself again
let me have the warmth again.
Diary of a lady hoping to find her creativity again.
Thank you for your time.
My pen doesn't bleed, it speaks, with speed and ease.
Still me,
My tongue is like the pen of a ready writer.
Olawalium; (Love's chemical content, in human form). Take a dose today: doctor's order.