Dilemma

Days turning into nights and moments slipping away
Every night when I come back having survived the day
I look at the defeated diary waiting for me to pen down my heart away
The depressed look of the empty canvas still to be painted and the tray
The endless conversations from friends that went away unanswered and
The only thing that drags me is my bed lying unafraid and honoured.

The jealous pages from the novel, half read lying next to me
And the hurt look of the canvas cheated away with the night sleep to be.
What to do and how do I say
I sometimes miss my times when I did what my heart say
I do miss the inner voice that was once heard and respected
I still hear it deep inside me just to be echoed and echoed again.

I want to do justice to all of them and never betray
But all I end up doing is stretch my arms after a long day.
I snuggle and wriggle on the made bed until I get up with my unkempt hair
I still look at the hopeful thing lying infront of my eyes
Looking me with hope filled with solace and sympathise
I wish someday I touch them and make them feel what I always want to say
They are and they still will always remain mine forever and ever away.