Few of my million daily thoughts, stories, and poems survive the battles in my head and make it to this blog.
Help me give them a louder voice.
(All poems are written by me, you can call me Zee)
Ideas that take foreign shapes lead to restless sleep
He lays his head ignoring the ghosts of the undead
She posts a post on Facebook that no one understands
“Why’s she so weird? Who would like this post?” They whisper behind bright screens, reblogging ideas simple and plain
He dreams of knowing her name
That girl in the coffee shop that looks too shy
They dream, of someone knowing their name
(I’m writing this half asleep)
Poet, making sense of war, humanity, love and greed. Trying to find the magic in ordinary things.
I am Zee