poet on probation

i once faced a time

when i couldn't rhyme, 

i felt i carved out a crime, 

and i turned life into lime. 

i thought i was solid kid, 

grades, gratitude, all i did, 

psychic pressures and i skid, 

watered the sand castles i build. 

who says, i can not undo, 

but i often doubt myself too, 

i picked up new thorns to redo, 

he offered me flowers that were few. 

i halt for a second, 

and prepare and respond, 

like time runs too beyond, 

he timely acts very beckoned, 

i call him my reader, 

who skims me all weather, 

balcony air and newspaper, 

exactly heals this nerd needer. 

where are poets, people ask? 

i collected ink, started to unmask. 

papers shine and words did bask, 

see my light, lessons and im back. 

~chetna 🌻