I was a rag doll— trifled, toyed, and played Whose patchworks were rended, torn, and ripped Every scraps and seams don't fit I'm a roman tapestry— stitched, sewn, and weaved Every thread is an untold story A piece of a whole new one unveiling before me


You are a poetry in motion an epitome of flamboyance and grace a dainty lingering my sanity You are a metaphor swaying on the tip of my tongue melds into what I digest You are the nature of this piece— a hush within my gale, a gleam amidst my clouds, the lucidity on misty nights …