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.