Wabi-Sabi, not the sauce,  the beauty inside me.

My scars are real, I cant keep hiding.

My pain was strong, but I keep fighting.

Amateurism racks my poem,

but i know that its a lyrical loam.

I've accepted my banes,

now i play like Batman.

I run around like a satisfied cat-man.

Random diction builds up my fiction, 

and tingling fingers entrap my keyboard.

Can't write anymore.

Now I'm board.


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