Phoenix Writer

I’m the colorful shadow, sometimes never seen.

I smile always, because they need one.

I laugh with them, instead of at them.

I quietly observe; watching. Listening.

My bag is full of notebooks, my testimony to life, existence, and art.

I am the calm diplomat, hearing each side’s due.

There are explosions at my feet, broiling anger at a few untimely words.

I am the runner, catching up from behind them.

Supporting these pillars.

I am the runner, flinging after the trail of broken shards, duct tape and tissues in hand.

I am the silent voice of reason, screaming but ignored.

Giving the difficult advice that may or may not be taken,

By them or myself.

I am the wind, unseen by all,

But my work is always in the corner of your eye.

Never in the spotlight, I work for other’s shine.