I’m sorry it took me so long to write,
Before seeing the scent, I felt too soon,
I found out that, my hopes and dreams were mumbled,
Rambled and lazy thoughts walked me to the moon
The words wouldn’t let me write them nor would they leave my sight.
The bitterness flowed in an endless way,
Writing with eyes that sparks red,
Even a penchant won’t have words stay,
With how I felt, I wrote every word with my heart and not my head.
The burden of my talent was left unsaid, leaving me doubtful next my bed.
My writings are not a defensive mechanism,
Rather, there’s more to it from my origin,
To the never reaching end of life’s prism,
Words that break the papers,
Left my writing emotions to the real-life pretenders.
To show my side, I’ll write to prove it right,
And keep the words in my sight,
I won’t let them bite,
To whoever future me is,
I pray I make future me proud.
What’s no human knows is known as the actual truth,
With all these attractive talents, I’m still seating in the booth,
Not worrying about who I’m or what I can do,
After all I’m a penchant that’s stuck feeling blue.