What would you like to know..
About my life.. My secrets..
You trying find out my deepest..
Well peep this..
I’m 20 years young and my life to me a secret..
The words I speak are even a mystery..
Room mating with misery..
My voice is gibberish to your ears..
And the look on my face spells FEAR..
But let it be clear..
I am fully understood when that pen hits that pad..
The ink is my chair..
Relaxed to the sound of silent warfare..
The pen scribbles because the minds lyrical..
The book is my easel and the no time for an interval..
Thoughts liquefied to ink..
Because my voice is mystified just think..
When my notepad is heard by the ears of the deaf..
and seen by the eyes of the blind..
Then I'll say I'm really on my grind..
But until then this is just piece of mine
...To Be Continued
