Without knowing any technique
Nor I know anything about it
So I blindly use words rhyming
At the end, in the middle or beginning
But slowly I learn though it enhances its sweetness
But hampers the way blossoming the theme
So I need a shift which I take
And turn to tell truths
By virtue of their convictions
They become books of logic or philosophy
But they never become anything like poetry
Again I need a change which I take
And set to use figure of speech
Then, they become
‘’This is like that
That is like this ‘’
Again I need a change quickly which I take
Since then at every point
I keep changing
Like a river
And let emotions flow like water
Still I wonder
If they turn into a poem
Or remain a stream of gushing murmur.