I am sitting alone in my bedroom doing nothing,
just staring ahead at the wall in front of me.
My heart wants to sing aloud,
but out of it no sound comes out.
I am alone in a library, reading nothing,
yet keeping a book in my hand.
I want to absorb its ideas and thoughts,
but my mind has made them banned.
I am alone in the theatre, watching nothing,
yet looking at the movie going on.
I want to laugh and cry at what the picture says,
but no expressions my face convey
And here i am at the study table, writing nothing,
yet holding a paper and a pen.
My hand wants to write a thousand words,
but not a single letter to me does my brain send.
Alas! I am but a caterpillar in its cocoon of darkness,
waiting restlessly to be a butterfly and remove the claustrophobic loneliness.