I see things in two dimensions ,
Even when you may be of three or more.
I have been blinded by the fog of uncertainties ,
Sometimes running faster than my shadow ,
I have unwritten more than I have written
and the sun hasn’t stopped shining.
I see things unapologetically differently,
And some things I say aren’t as deep as they appear,
Some words may get to tear,
But I am hoping you open your arms wide,
Wide enough to remember that I am but a messenger and sometimes the message.
Never forget that “simple is beautiful “
and some of the exaggeration are meant to grease your mind.
What you think of me is what I am,
But sometimes more or less.
I honestly do not write for you,
Nor for the fame that comes in cheap sequence .
I write to you whom I can not see the sparkle in your eyes,
You who gets me as much as I you,
You who try’s to see beauty in ashes.
Dear reader, I am because you are
And the world can keep its opinion to itself.
My dream is that is do not run out of ink
And you ; do not get tired of me.