You skim my ink, but do not read between the depths of
my expulsion. Only reading in the shallow pools, then lifting
your eyes from my thoughts and dry lightly.

Creativity is not a syllable or a word, it is that which
utters in the mind and lingers there in reflections of what
was said but imbues new deliberation.

I care not for your pity but give originality its dues and
not the same old same old that is just a whisper in a
crowd. I shout and you will listen to my ****** words.