The vivid eyes of the hidden self
When real life is your sleep paralysis
You canʼt speak or breath
But poetry is the only emotion
That can make you sing
It is the song you hear, in your deafness
No longer fearing being reckless
Your loud voice in mute
When Truth is a hard pill to swallow
So I hope I find the words to pray poetries
So I can allow emotions to unravel
I write poems to time travel
That if I write poetry, I might forgive myself
I might inspire myself
That thereʼs a lot of color in life,
and I might remind myself
It is the painting you hang inside you
Life is the color
Life is the source
It allowed you to exist discovering its limitations
Then discovering poetry breaks those barriers
So thereʼs more to life
The bridge that only a few knows about
The garden, everywhere
Thereʼs more to my prayers
Like sweet aroma of incense
We send it up