How is it that you have written a story about me
without even knowing me
How is it that you have translated my feelings
which I have no idea about
How is it that there are hundreds of words I've never used
describing my thoughts exactly
You have drawn me with a single stroke of brush
a replica the mirror can never make
is this my imagination or your imagination
who is creating me?

It's a routine
and there is a disruption
Everything is fine
On the surface
Dig deeper, an eruption.

Let's believe in it
but worry is constant companion,
Hope is whimsical
It flutters and breaks
And burns again with flame.

It was a dream,
A beginning and the end,
A living breathing trend.
But a life is beyond imagination,
Ups and downs and a show.

Now to this slowdown,
We don't know,
The time in abundance
Is going to drain
A fear turning to a new name.

The year has been
straight out of some ******* movie
It is building and building
and no one knows
what kind of end it will bring.