Poetry

I am sick of poetry
I am addicted to words
But they are useless
They will get lost in a sea of vowels

One day I will fail to breathe
And all that left will be memories
I am curious though
Will they stick?

I know that I say that
I am just fine.... But
I hope you wonder
From time to time

I have always created the darkest
Clouds above my head
It feels like a miracle of water in the desert
That punctuates the ending

- Nirmohi