Myself

The flaming red curls of wonder born in the land of the Red Sea

below the rising sun.

living within the walls of past memories 

stuck in a room of limit

carrying the utensils of life

that paint my path to creativity 

knowing what ahead is beautiful

to all that see

listening to the soft words of others 

that people refuse to be

while it is so easy for me

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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