I will not crave the admiration of others on the reflexes of what I verse, incomplete metaphors are a valuation of what you perceive in what is collected in the vaults of my indiscriminate imaginings.
I will throw a penny in the fountain of what I spill in unprecedented flurries. Would you catch what I scatter into the pond of vacant words. Would you catch what I throw? or watch the ripples of what it could become.
I will always throw a stone in to the white to see what splashes on the verges of mind. I'm more deep than I know, how many coins will you throw to see my depth. Will all sink not showing the shimmer of my words.