Sunday, 29 August 2010

I

I am the colors in your palette
spread within your boundaries
fading when the picture is seen

I am the notes in your music
held together by guitar strings
vanishing each time you sing

I am the images in your words
held together in your metaphors
complicated as you compose

I am the thoughts in your diary
crafted within each belief
stored away in shafts

I am the poetry you write
woven silently on bathroom walls
washed away after every bath

I am me, dimming as I grow
I am me, complicated and alone
I am me, left exposed.

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