You usually gaze your attention
To the things that were easily tossed by the wind
Without even noticing the very tiny speck
That had already conquered your eyes

Which had caused you to blink for a sec
And made you lose out of your way
Confused with which way to go
Til’ suddenly you are totally lost

And as you began to open it
Teary eyed, with wet eyelids though curled lashes,
All you saw was nothing but a blurry vision
Waiting for it to turn as lucid as you expected it to be

But it didn’t
And so you panicked
And messed it all up
And realized that you just made it all worse

Fascinated by such trivial matters
I look at them in astonishment
I watch their every move
With symphonies embedded in my eardrums.

What does it feel like?
To show?
To care?
To know?
To feel? ..

Do they stop to think?
That it's more than them
Having classes and relationships to tend to
More than who's wearing a prada or gucci
More than what's there to see
And to just notice the unseen
Feel the unseen
Be the Unseen.

-fir.m

Through the sluice and trickle
upon my glassy world view,
I stare like the dead,
while waiting for you.

Though I see the storm,
My heart rages in its thunder,
Knowing you'll creep in soon,
Obliterating this nightmare wonder.

Unlike this thrashing rain,
slicing up my window pane,
I've seen the beds you've lain
in my jagged dreams:
where my spirit walks free
chasing my heart's silent screams;
connected to yours
like a ball and chain.

The worlds but a puppet show
With tiny figurines
That wear miniature glass hearts
Upon their tiny sleeves

When it's not an exciting scene
To the viewers we don't matter
But together we're all struggling
To climb life's impossible ladder

And when the show is over
And the puppets are thrown away
Their glass sleeves are shatted
no matter what the master will say

When night comes at last
And only the figurines stay
Stabbing each other with the shards
In their own unseen play

If I never show this poem
To you, or anyone,
Is that a period.
Or an eraser.

The everyday life you and I live is able to happen because of something unseen..

This unseen force will forever die in order for us to live..

If one day we see this unseen force, we will fight for its survival.

The very little things make grand possibilities.

Without my mind's
electrical circuitry,

there's no time
besides eternity.

Oh that poem!
A plain masterpiece!
An eye for the blind!
Beyond what my limited words can describe!
Glory be to he who wrote this breathtaking beauty!
But I am left speechless and confused
Once I see the simple number of its likes and views
I guess that's what makes it so special
A diamond unseen
A hidden potential.
And he continues to write...
As if poetry was his only friend.
I guess he already accepted the fact that
*we cannot always trend

I am you* in unseen places
The you, which you ignore
Forgotten and left behind

I am you behind the play
The nails and glue
That hide behind the picturesque facade

I am you crouched in wait
Perched and ready
To be acknowledged as truth

I am you inside your words
Shared anonymously
Naked, alone, embittered and brilliant

I am you crouched in the darkest corner
Shadowed by pain
Seething in silence

I am you oblivious to the knowledge
That in this twisted loss of self
You are in fact...**me