My words are at dire loss,
Breaking with every comma,
Ending with every period,
Yet never beginning when it should.
May be this is a break-up phase,
Where the hyphen is left to hang
mid-sentence, never to be completed,
Reeling with pain of anticipation.
My brain piles up with question marks.
Just the right amount, no more, no less,
Pity the bad timing,
No answers anytime soon.
When the gloom passes,
And the sun peeps out,
I might use some excitement,
Ending with an exclamation.
Punctuations spin the white sheet,
Vaguely drumming the beat until
the rhythm and words fuse,
Sentence they become, happily ever after!