I don't want to write it down. I don't want to give those thoughts life form cause once you put them down on that soft pillow of memory…. Once you do that, It becomes truth! The one that haunts you.... The one that comes in your dreams The truth that never knew lie-if.
You become its slave, You share your lunch with it. You just dream about that moment trapped on paper that moment you decided to give your thoughts wings to eternity.
Your words - your destiny, yet even sworn enemy.
Hidden agendas behind poetry. Sometimes hiding behind metaphors helps to avoid slap of reality.