I am...just little old me.
I am
So many things in varying shades.
Some days I'm warm pastels and others I'm vibrantly displayed.
My canvas is the world and language is my muse.
I look upon this earth and see all the tools I could use.
Not a single one is worthless
I see all that is thier purpose.
Written words have voices,
like pearls hidden in oysters.
I crack thier shells and peer in, listening real close,
viewing the beauty of the coarse shell that has let this treasure doze.
I took pride in what I do
As my vocaubulary grew.
I heard the hidden whispers of those forgotten
drew thier visions close and allowed them to taughten.
Tightly I held thier thoughts within my mind
until i found a better way to define
thier meaning and thier riches
and i struggled which's
how i cam to the conclusion
that this world is an infusion
of varying illusions
that we play upon a prism
and view in varying schisms.
So have i caught your attention in my vocabulary play?
Do you feel you have a better understanding of who I am today?
Beacuase if you do then you know more than me,
for I could not possibly agree.
You see,
I am more than what meets the eye and what you read.
I am athletic, poetic and prophetic.
I am so much more than words and I hope no one finds me apathetic.
Do you get it?
Thats okay,
I will not lead you astray.
I am more than what this world is able to precieve.
I am and always will be, just little old me.