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FLICKER

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Flicker.
A spark,
One thought not grasped.
A blink of an idea,
A moment here, then gone.
Stress.
Worry.
Pressure and rush.
Impending deadline.
Then, another flicker,
Again.
Just one word,
Or two. Or four.
Then the jumbled thoughts run,
In a mad dash of a race,
Down my arm,
To my hand,
And my pen,
Which jumps and jerks and writes down
A semi-okay sentence.
Doubt.
Anger of my own stupidity.
Erase, Rewrite.
Scared.
Rejected.
Flicker.
A spark.
This time, I keep the words the way they are.
Flicker.
And so it goes.
Ans a story, just like that,
Is born.





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