I'm a first class writer, 

VIP introvert. 

And don't tell me I'm not the observer, 

because I am the observer of the observed. 

My fingers play Fur Elise on my keys, 

as I plead not to kill 

my beloved characters. 

Ink is immortal, 

it is my blood, 

I am the human tatoo. 

I am the one glance man, 

who only gets a glance from the world, 

and must fight 

for another. 

A loser, 

poetry user, 

a first class cruiser, 

on the U.S.S. imaginations, 

congregations of the nations, 

is the interpretation 

of my implacations 

to tell of the animations 

of my mind. 

I'm a first class writer, 

yet I'm recognized by no one. 

I am the human tatoo, 

hidden from ultimate judgement 

by the prying eyes of the world

and don't tell me your in a whirl

with the fog of words I surround myself with 

that's my mask. 

Good luck finding the true face. 

I'm an enigma, a riddle a cypher, 

A first class writer, 

a murderer of my characters, 

a liar of storytelling, 

a sinner of professions, 

because I have the ultimate confessions, 

of my depression, 

as I suppress it, 

and yes, you guessed it. 

I'm a first class writer

I'm the hidden human tatoo, 

a wearable art worn by the shadows.