I am many things, quietly,
A poet whose words flow softly through the stillness,
A writer, shaping thoughts into words
That speak when silence is too loud.

In art, I find my voice—
A visual artist, crafting from dreams,
Letting colors spill where they may,
Shaping moments that feel like they've always existed.

But I am also hands that build,
A builder, laying stones to form something lasting,
Designing spaces where ideas and reality meet,
Where simple things become more than they seem.

And when the world demands structure,
I walk in the realm of reason,
Working with systems and numbers,
Not as a master, but as one who listens,
Helping them find their place.

Imagination is my quiet guide,
A spark that moves both thought and action,
For I do not only think—I feel,
And let my heart lead the way.

I am no grandmaster of any single thing,
But a humble creator,
Working with hands, mind, and soul,
Ever learning, ever doing,
With pride, but never boasting,
For the art I create is simply the best of me.