The world does not know your inner
Thought canals,
With the weight of your self on your
Lips, sometimes you
Cannot speak,
Then in a few words everything fits
And the empty feeling goes away.

      You are not a reflection of you,
You are here writing reflected
   In an irresistible mirror,
Stilled as if looking at a statue,
      Wisdom in awkwardness.

Yes you astute when you
Are alone under a lamp
     Writing yourself,
You know the statue better
     When you step away from the warmth
Of your own judgments.

       In your stew of words
There is wisdom's discomfort,
      Your eyes dazzled
As you discover your own
Secrets, as if you are a
Lonesome gypsy,
        Make yourself between the words,
Find the time to read them,
       Grow wise to yourself.