Ink and Memories
A word Dance with Expression
At 11:29, Tuesday looms, minutes fleeting fast,
In Turkish tales, my mind finds a vast contrast.
Past memories, a ringtone's nostalgic spell,
Compels me to write, the reasons in me dwell.
In the dance of words, my sustenance appears,
Nourishment found, as ink quells my fears.
Bound to paper, a refuge, a sanctuary,
Without this art, I'd wither, lost and weary.
Expressions printed, thoughts on vivid display,
In the canvas of language, emotions at play.
So, in this moment, the pen takes its stand,
A symphony of words, crafted by my hand.