Drifting

I was sitting in my small cosy room in the office
with the window at my back wide open
warm breeze rushing in sweeping away the chilliness inside
the full blast centralized airconditioned is too much for my lean body to take
i had not had the comfort of food to warm up my body
as I was fasting
i look at the empty piece of paper
i was trying hard to put words in to a full syllable
But my effort seems futile
I’m lost for ideas when this is what I have been doing all along
Am drifting…




… and no this is definitely not a poem, for I am no English poet.