Lost all essence

I am trying to recollect the days i began writing poems.

No one had asked me to write, yet i did. I used to write poetic lines on the walls of our room.

I remember, when I was in 4th std, my English teacher saying good words on a poem we were assigned to write, the topic was 'Rain'. That is when i first wrote a poem. I easily finished writing it, faster than i ever did.

I put on rhyming words to the ending of every lines. i was very innocent like all kids.

Now i recall an incident from the past, when one younger boy studying in my school, stole my poem from the school magazine and published it in his name in a Club's yearly magazine. Was not angry, was indeed more happy to see it there, accidentally. I grinned, thinking, out of all the other poems in the school magazine, he chose mine.

Wrote for competitions, no invigilators liked mine. No one liked the crude one. I could not polish much. I did not know, how to.

As an adult, i now don't know how to write a poem.

I think i have lost my collection of poems.

Father did not like me writing. Mother never encouraged.

Friends were there to promote my skills at writing...however they try, they can not ignite again the soot of the burned poet in me.

I can foresee a person waiting to come to my life. Can't recognise who is that, if i have already seen that one, or may be i have not met him yet.

May be that person can make the poet-phoenix rise again.