Slowly I count

Slowly I count
with bated breath
like little kids do
in a game
of hide
and seek.

One, two, three.
Unlike them
l don’t count
as moments pass.
I pause for days
sometimes weeks
at times much more.

The count does grow
gradually in its own pace.
I am in the thirties, my age.
In the fifties, my count.
When will I see the millions
I see elsewhere.

What do I count
not shining stars
not money in my account
nor the pages I’ve written.

I count my follows
and why do I do that
don’t I have chores.

I do it in hope of finally creating a stage
for my final grand master piece

MY LIFE.

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Isolated Girl

Before I even began to blog,
my inbox had a clog
of fan following,
not to see, but to be seen;

it isn’t lessening, to be so keen,
a pursuit whose vein, I too share;
yet a name stood out clean,
isolated girl, who are you?

I gave your words a simple try,
a puzzle too much for me to weigh,
life is pain, you say and cry,
it didn’t give me, even a sigh;

you shall be alone, for too long,
a worthy soul may come, or not;
for mates are found, each passing day,
can true soul mates, ever be found?

a worthy quest, only for those true,
may be a few, souls like you;
yet isolated girl, give life a try,
each moment, so precious to cry.