I shoot beyond the stars, searching for anything remotely interesting
The path is never straight, I work the bends like Wesley Gibson
To my surprise it’s not yet illegal, having a mind this far-reaching
But that’s the thing about writing — poetry,
It uncovers doors that need opening
Concealing enough wisdom to showcase those that need closing.
Apologies your grace. You have no part to play in this race,
I switch lanes of thought in whichever way gives me the most peace
Clocking laps on my mind’s tartan track with inexplicable ease
But that’s a truth I’m encouraged not to say openly
If these arbiters are to have their way
I would behave appropriately
Adhering to all manner of doctored humility.
Re-direct your attention if my gift rubs you the wrong way
Because in this world, I hardly know how to behave
I let volatile thoughts loose like the gameplay loop of the untitled goose game
You can’t keep it a secret when you have this much talent in spades
In a world that edges you towards monochrome,
I bear a series of colours — emotions, that burrow themselves within me —
— Think Dutch tulip fields — stretching as far as your eyes can see.
With that said, dear reader,
I would like to take this moment to tell you
That this piece won’t end with a profound lesson
I won’t lie and tell you I’m losing sleep over what’s happening
I owe you more than that.
There is no message. No virtue signalling.
In this specific moment. All I care about is us, and this simple the truth:
“You read what I had to say. And for that, I love you”
– O.D. ©2020
Art by: mrssEclipse