Again life cycles to a clutter, ideas thought through

don't anymore seem as though,

even when expressed aloud and not within.



Maybe they're right,

my ignorance is only withholding wonders

I struggle to actually see.  



Hypocritically, I find importance in self enrichment

and observing from afar.

and yet even from a distance you feel so close.



Is this an evolution or is it just another mutation.

Obscure out of any cultural norm, I resonate

impairing those who hear my words.



This constant metamorphosis has left me staring in the mirror for

hours, searching for the presence of my subjected  form.



Yet,



while I peer into the interworkings of my reflection

to observe what I actually see...



With all truth, it holds a boy,

an awkwardly timid boy.



Insecurely gazing back into the pupils

of his reality.



He's bellowing inside his

submerged mind.



Subconsciously Blurting:



"Do not turn back,  

their are cyclones that await.



And all that is required

to overcome this task



is to go forth without

pondering times long gone...





So here I am, engaulphed

in tidal winds.



I must break loose;



grow, starting from

below.