Forget the past,
Let’s uplift the drapes.
Allow the light to seep in,
Well into the dark space.
Realism is confinement,
But idealism is refinement.
At times I am just dying,
But surrealism how I’m trying.
I overcome.
I withstand.
I overrun,
Out of quick sand.
And your energy, with our without it I am stronger by the day.
Like a fray.
I write this poetic expression in the day, and sometimes at night.
Unraveling my distraught mess,
In a way,
That says it is okay —
Through any dark plight.
Before I lay,
I have explored everything that I wanted to say…
Like a cobra’s spit, when he begins to sharp strike.
