Poem 11 Poem by Satyabrata Barik

Do not either know or care what I think and write,
It's just what my heart says, in the dead of night.
It's just what forces me to come out, unafraid,
Through my pen's ink, my thoughts cascade.

It lets me feel fresh, lighter than before,
With every word, I discover a little more.
Sometimes I wonder, but still, I am content,
For this act of creation, my heart is fully bent.

So let the words flow, like a river's gentle stream,
For in the act of writing, I find my dream.
Though the world may not understand, or see,
I'm happy with what I do, for it sets me free.