I wasn't the type
to write everyday,
or to get inspired easily.
but I was the type to fall
inlove each day.

Not necessarily with people,

but with the most simple &
common things. The
Smile of a stranger reminded
me that the hearts of man
were still kind.

The warmth of the sun, on my face
Each day, quietly whispered
that things will be okay

and finally, the shapes the
clouds took on an overcast day
insisted that there was
beauty in sadness, in solitude.

I honestly believe that I'll die
In awe of this unappreciated
world and that breaks my
Heart

I barely know you.
I don't know your
favourite colour or
how you like your coffee
On a cold morning,

I don't know a thing
about who you loved,
or who loved you

I know none of these things.
but I do know your heart,
your soul;
you intrigued me like a
new book in the winter,
Darling

I covered walls,
desks, windows
and even bathroom stalls
with poems.

I just wanted someone
to unsuspectedly read
what I had conjured
in this broken
imagination of mine.

I wanted them to feel,
To be happy, to be sad.
I just wanted them to see it,
to read it;

I didn't want them to know it was
me.
I didn't want them to know
I was slowly
changing the world.