Sleepless Nights-
My rose red candle burns and yearns for what
lies upon the canvas of life so i've learned-to
keep a brandished knife steady with dexterity
so that I may strike with no sincerity, my pen-
moves merrily as I inherite thee-perception of
words which no one shall perish I cherish-every
thought in which rises the spirit like yeast at
least...for a moments glance-just long enough
to understand...why?..My mother used to try
and answer this question for me, not knowing
it was of a rhetorical nature, she would say..
"People only criticize what they don't understand..
the people that think they do, don't understand"-
I laughed as she poured more coffee into my
already half-filled cup-Spoken wisdom can sometimes
be overlooked by the evil kisses of vanity which
tend to entise the soul of anybody weak at heart
and mind-a hardened spine could'nt back me up-
coming within close brushes of its fatal attraction,
growing weaker by the weekly-it fixed itself onto
me and sucked every bit of understanding, leaving
me in an almost abstract stature-I shake it off...I
shake it off not because it is mandatory but..but
because I must, I trust-that if I ever observed a
rose growing from concrete then I will have perceived
the inperceivable-thus understanding the unknown-
They say seeing is believing, but on the contrary-
believing is seeing...faith is key-
As I wait patiently...
i had no intentions on building around making the words rhyme..i just wrote what came to me ....so keep that in mind when feeding...
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