A Scribbler's Story: First Hand Poem by Sumita Jetley

In a corner lit by morning's glow,
Mira dreamed where ideas flow.

A notebook born of trials and care,
For messy lives that need repair.

The first attempt? A paper-thin,
Ink that bled, a fragile sin.

The second round—a neon crime,
Screaming colors stole her time.

But flaws, she knew, were steps ahead,
A path through doubts where courage led.

She spilled her coffee, tossed and tried,
Each test a truth, no flaw denied.

A message came: "It fits my need."
A simple note that plants a seed.

And in her Scribbler, Mira wrote,
A line to keep, a cherished note:

'For those whose lives are far from neat,
Here's a space where chaos meets."

Now Mira sits, her work refined,
A home for thoughts, for hearts aligned.

Her Scribbler holds a silent cheer,
A dream made real, a world sincere.