One need not be a writer to write for readers, who are learned to comprehend.
Thoughts, put into words, written, read, perceived freely.
Superfluity noticed; even deficiency won’t get away.
Scholar rationalizes, criticizes for ambiguity.
Welcomes absurdity,
Contentedly sees fault while desperately seeks perfection.
One need not be a writer to write for readers, who understand to live
A prose of complexity can be grasped with ease
For when reasons are foreign, sensibility works,
Experiences clarify; lead to think out of the box.
Accepts familiarity,
Yet, incessantly discern flaws while candidly defies nation.
One need not be a writer to write for readers who live to love
Words are futile, complexity worsen,
Reasons become strange, stupidity reigns
Mental power – irrelevant, as scholar becomes dumb!
As when one recognizes absurdity of experience
Emotions pour, vulnerability surfaces, so one defies perfection.
One need not be a writer…
To be a reader,
To comprehend,
To live, and to
Love.
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