The fish of colour ,swim up and down the stream
In Geometric patterns , serene

Ocean waves on the shore , rush and recede
Empty shells cowries and conches it brings

The crests and troughs in a sine wave
Sometimes in life , the same

I wrote a poem when I died...
Another at my birth.
A brand-new sonnet when I cried.
And again when there was mirth.

A song for my confession...
A story for my pain...
A painting for depression...
And nursery rhymes for rain.

My creations live inside my heart.
I keep them there in shame.
Yet you looked around and saw my art,
And smiled all the same.