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They pass by without a clue, Few have tried to see the truth,Those who have tried may see some,But I always know the outcome:Frustration,Curiosity,Constant interrogation,Or maybe they just give up. I love it when they try to see,When they look in
The arrival of the enigma, Bestowed my contemplations, Through the neat, And the knot, Do you feel the numbers now ? The numbers we once didn’t know of? I ask not , I state not,
I am enigma,
As a human, I am an enigma.
I am that poor girl whose waning hope gave birth to passion Or perhaps I am a pupeteer with a marionette by the name of "Semantics" Some days I am the crisp morning drizzle
I am the silent screamer.
My life is an enigma My everymove, and thought is a riddle I am an unsolved puzzle I am an enigma I am a mystery but one day this riddle would be left in history.
Its that drip of sweat that's stuck on his neck slowly making its way down to the bed My head lays calmly relaxed But my mind is in a wind and a fuss Am I doing enough? Should I touch?
Whenever I attempt the act of relaxation, In the forefront of my mind there is always a slight hesitation.
We try to extract a meaning Yet that meaning is not concrete It is shrouded in ambivalence And leaves us in defeat Poetry is hidden Its nature is enigmatic Those who attempt to interpret it
The young boy who wants to be a doctor Sits alone in his room imagining. Just imagining.