I write only half

With the surrealistic scenes in my mind,

I see people only with half-opened eyes, 

In a random conversation,

I broke into it to express my views, 

In a random place,

My eyes do checks for a picture, 

I catch words,

While waiting at the bus stop,

I record the emotions,

In the traffic jams,

On the whole,

To be clear,

I write only half,

The joy and the pain,

The fireflies and the darkness, 

I try to put it out there,

Like a hoarding in the busiest place of the city,

It is the reader's imagination,

Which clears my delusion,

By exchanging my feelings,

And writes heartwarming tales as co-author.