The Poem Is Searching Its Head

All my words puffed

But failed to overt my within

They ran so hard and coughed

That made their eyes so thin

Those who turned my pages up

Had peculiar eyes and ears

They read what I spoke up!

And heard I wrote for years!

Poetry is not a piece of cake

Let me catch and tell you

It’s a hard nut to crack

Let me catch and tell you

I wish, she reads me for no time bound

With her fingers on her chin

With eyes unblinking and chuckle around

With her fingers on her chin