In Sight

I would not write to be sassy, stupid or stingy

I would not write to be mean, morbid or morose

Rather to express the jumble of thoughts, I would write

A disguise, a mask that would never break

The stories behind, never to be known

To follow the thoughts, that could only speak

through a shade of color all my own

A private dwelling under the sun

To tell the world through shades of grey

Where my own thoughts don’t need to run

Judgements prove insignificant without a prey

When foolish words confirm

Irrational thoughts declare

But yet logic remains firm

For the unspoken word is more precious than air

Grasping to procure an ambience

To recklessly speak the words of the heart

Because we are a fleeting moment, transience

Not to feel abandoned or the need to end the start

In words that still cannot describe

the essence of what is human life

a fleeting moment that is transcribed

Yet has a mix of joy and strife

Every word is profound

Stricken with meaning depicted

Pictures, analogies, comparisons and arguments bound

By a mask that can not be lifted

I write for the release, refined and reserved

I write for the pause, peaceful and precious

So the question might be lifted as to why I write

The simple answer is in sight

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