I will not crave the admiration of others on the reflexes
of what I verse, incomplete metaphors  are a valuation
of what you perceive in what is collected in the vaults
of my indiscriminate imaginings.

I will throw a penny in the fountain of what I spill in
unprecedented flurries. Would you catch what I scatter
into the pond of vacant words. Would you catch what
I throw? or watch the ripples of what it could become.

I will always throw a stone in to the white to see what
splashes on the verges of mind. I'm more deep than I
know, how many coins will you throw to see my depth.
Will all sink not  showing the shimmer of my words.