The clutter of books on her desk
Matches her state of mind. Sheaves
Of paper fall to the ground, giving
Her no time to unwind. If her brain
Were a repository of thoughts and
Tasks, it would be conjusted by now
Because she has so much to do. She
Doesn’t know when to do it and how.
Then, there are her dreams. Dreams
Of college. Dreams of a stable future.
Her dreams rejuvenate her and she
Starts working with an uncontrollable
Drive. Her dreams, that she sees, with
Eyes wide open are what motivate her.
A promising job and a hefty salary are
Not her centre of focus but anoyher aim. An
Aim of seeing her parents, living in
Affluency. Because of her. She has
Aims. She has dreams. She has a
Goal and a stature to uphold. She
Is your average student with her
Ambitions and dreams hidden inside
Like a secretive yet determined creature.
This poem is basically ME, duh.
If you guessed it already, then you’re smart. Also, on another note, since in my last blog post, I disclosed my name (Avantika), I want all my friends to connect with me on more social networking sites because I want to talk to you ALL. And remember our deal, right? Talks over coffee or saying “hi” if you spot me. Hmm.
Follow me on ask.fm
Ping me with a request on Instagram-
My username is AvantikaSinghal216.
*confirms 30 times before writing*