I want to stand,
on solid ground,

a canopy covered cloud,
to dream all day-round,

I want to live,
my best life,
and breathe,
like there's only,
today

There is no secret meaning to life,
Nor is anyone special.
To be honest, I don’t really care.
I’m not too fond of fate,
And I never wanted to be special.
I simply wish to live,
And create my own purpose.

Romeos  never come too late
to rescue your Juliets
Juliets don’t wait in vain.
Life is too precious.

Shell ✨🐚

I am the one who is

always waiting.

Always anticipating

for what is to come

or what may come.

Waiting to become

better,

bigger,

than who I feel that I am.

Stronger than what

I think that I am.


Never fully comfortable with,

never really secure in,

what is present in

the moment.

I wait with

this expectation that

there must always be more

than what there really is.

That I must be more

than what I am.


There sets a purpose,

an endeavor,

before me.

And then, once more,

there's another again.

I anticipate for each and every

opportunity and probability,

then I wait- once more-

for what's to follow.

It's the story of a life

that has an inevitable ending

but with no one

foreseen wrapped up conclusion.


And maybe,

I could see this as just

my adaptability and ability

for such impeccable growth.

Yet, while I wait,

here plays out

each sequence of my world

that races right on past me

before I can even savor

the pure fulfillment,

the true wholeness,

of just one single moment.

And how that precise moment,

in a single instant,

can be gone.