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.





Grant-Grey Porter Hawk Guda

Powerful expression! 

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