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