Its been long since I have spoken to myself. My mind kinda playing "exile-exile". Is it mid-poetry crisis or evolution of unpredicted poet's block? I dont know. Least I suggested my mind to look for the 'wise tree of wisdom' in the sky.

Atlast my mind discovered that 'time' has commercialised the poet inside me with 'dollars' rather than the morning dew on grass. Is it worth it or my mind has decided wrong?

"One hour work for money or one hour work for poetry"?.... that's the question !!