My heart aches to feel emotions,
To convey my ambition to human proportions.
My brain trembles a lot,
While making my hands write alot.
My mind races towards the shining sun,
Unaware of its burning fun.
My papers cry out in pain,
Every time I write on them in vain,
To one day, the satisfaction I could gain.
My mind might feel the strain,
My hands might feel the pain,
My eyes might feel the tearful rain,
Though my heart might not seek any gains,
But, my book will not be written in vain.