Taking a walk back home
I leave the world behind.
It has come to me
In some parts, this heavenly bliss
Of a fallen sky
Where I step and look
To bloom,
Like a flower.
I realize love chains me
I want freedom instead.
To be me,
And fill the blank pages.
It’s been a long time
I have cornered a poem.
Again, the flow
Is what I miss.
I miss the little lies
That a poem hides:
Almost a fictional truth.
Life is not always
An open secret.
A poem is also the truth
That flows in spontaneity.
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© Sushant Thapa
Biratnagar-13, Nepal
Picture Nick Victor
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