now a days...

Today when I took my pen, and thought to write any poem, nothing appeared in my mind. I was holding my pen over the blank white page for more than a hours and staring continuously the tree outside of my window. I was gazing the trespassers, vehicles and animals wondering on the roads. I was thinking and thinking and thinking continuously, but my every attempt was wastage. I couldn't understand anything, I couldn't conclude anything and my mind is full of questions, like this..... 

'What happened to me?'

'Why my days are passing so much unproductive?'

'Am I killing my time?'

'Am I spoiling my future?'

'What is my future?'

'What is my destiny?'

'It's true, I am not satisfied with myself.'
'I am doing nothing to satisfy myself.'

'Those things which I can do with my qualifications (Pharmacy); I am not doing honestly.'

'Those things which is my hobby to do (writing novels), I am feeling boring to do that?'

'I am only thinking so much for my future.'

'I lack the courage to change my destiny.'

I don't know, what is hidden for me in the lap of future, and I am completely fade up with all these thoughts. 
Although I have written two lines in these hours only which can describe my actual situation, through which I am going now a days......

I don't know, 'How the days are passing?'

but it's true, and 'the days are passing.'   

Jitendra Gupta