To be overlooked.
Chosen last is the norm.
Elocution of honor resembles the trusted variable.
Yet, you see through me.
Searching the land for something far and great.
Vast selections hinder the sight of the evident,
Swooping through the veiled counter parts.
Thief, torment chances of creation.
Patiently, I am found at the ocean,
Unhooked from the anchor,
No longer drowning in the nature.
Silhouettes displayed in a reflection,
Carving inexplicable images.
Find me.
Sleepless nights taunt me,
Lost in trance of remembrance.
Gazed beyond contingent particles,
You've lost me.
YOU ARE READING
Brown Sugared Sunflowers
PoetryThese are poems that I've been writing for the past 10+ years. Writing always tapped into a deep part of me. I had to find what I liked and what made me, well me. Once I discovered myself, Ive felt free and unbothered. I am spiritual and I am woke t...
