In Sight

I would not write to be sassy, stupid or stingy I would not write to be mean, morbid or morose Rather to express the jumble of thoughts, I would write A disguise, a mask that would never break The stories behind, never to be known To follow the thoughts, that could only speak through a shade of color all my own A private dwelling under the sun To tell the world through shades of grey Where my own thoughts don’t need to run Judgements prove insignificant without a prey When foolish words confirm Irrational thoughts declare But yet logic remains firm For the unspoken word is more precious than air Grasping to procure an ambience To recklessly speak the words of the heart Because we are a fleeting moment, transience Not to feel abandoned or the need to end the start In words that still cannot describe the essence of what is human life a fleeting moment that is transcribed Yet has a mix of joy and strife Every word is profound Stricken with meaning depicted Pictures, analogies, comparisons and arguments bound By a mask that can not be lifted I write for the release, refined and reserved I write for the pause, peaceful and precious So the question might be lifted as to why I write The simple answer is in sight