Things are getting entangled, like a bunch of grey hair;
A tired me seeking for ways, resting in this armchair.
I cant believe within, the presence of an empty mind;
Constantly recycling, those crowded thoughts of every kind.
For what I miss often, is captured in my every heartbeat;
The love that forms me, restores my being and paces its heat.
I think its time for questions, let me introspect within;
I wish to know, what and how time has to bring in.
A sudden numb silence, is taking place of my speech,
For things once sought, are now seen out of reach.
With you around, I begin to bloom, I begin to beam;
But the noises in my head tell me, you're losing all the steam.
I wish I was in your arms, as your fingers allow my hair to scatter.
As I pen this poem, looking outside in the rain;
My forehead feels that kiss, and chirps my tickled brain.