Restless souls writeAnxious souls readComplacent souls pay no heedAnd then there's me. Fitting uncomfortably in each space, while not fitting in at all. There's a blessing in being anomalous. It spares us the slavery of living by rules. But blessings don't occur without burdens, and the burden of being anomalous is the restlessness that it
"Poetry often belies the age of the poet, but always reveals the struggles of the soul. What we write of youth, applies to old. But most would rather resist it, Than bear the truth be told. I’m in love with life. But I hate the world." It's possible to live life romantically, you know. Despite
Blessed be the gentle ones who love too fiercely,Accept too easilyAnd hope endlessly.The ones torn between duty and loveOr responsibility and passionThe ones who sacrifice quietlyBut celebrate others loudlyThe ones who when sadFind joy in making others smileWho serve willinglyBut expect none in returnBlessed be they,For they are the whispers of the heavenly breezeAmidst the
Poetry often belies the age of the poet, but always reveals the struggles of the soul. What we write of youth, applies to old. But most would rather resist it, Than bear the truth be told. I’m in love with life. But I hate the world.
Pleasantries aside, Life awaits. A release waiting to be honoured, A being of self resisting restraint, An expression of the soul refusing all rules, A delight of indulgence to tickle a child. Laughter Love Abandon Life awaits.
Belying my exterior, That serene scene saunters into view of my mind's eye. Driving to a destination that isn't, Until my fuel is spent, Effortlessly emerge from the vehicle, And continue on foot, Until I am spent. Finally melding into the sand, Without a trace, I become one with time. Passing you by, Unnoticed. Finally