3 am.

all the day
I gather my broken pieces
with my hands
settle them down
wash them off
and strive
I shine like sun.

all the night
I break myself
into dejected pieces again
3 am. is a fight
it ruins all
I talk to my ghost.


By Shreya Sharma

I read poems. Sometimes I write poems. And when I am doing nothing, I am sipping coffee.


    1. Haha it’s okay, Richard. Thanks for reading.
      Also I have been missing your 50 word stories and jorios, elfjes (my fav). I remember I learnt from your poems earlier and used to write. I have been inactive on blog since few months but glad to be back.

      Liked by 1 person

    1. Hi Rupa. Welcome to the blog.
      You can try following more and more followers by exploring “Discover” Section of your interests. Also, try engaging more by liking and commenting on the posts.

      Liked by 1 person

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