The stain of coffee lingers fresh
which languidly turns to yesteryears,
cementing thoughts over my
eyes, sulking dolefully.
life never changes.
But, I have a beautiful life.
each morning, I open my eyes
to the lethal secret revealing more
and more to me…circling through my past
and narrating connotations
to endless loops of dark secrets;
and I am learning from my mistakes
because the pain never heals
as I sullenly revolve
like an earth, on my own axis.
I am content.
not conceited; why shouldn’t I be?
the truth of something making me inhuman
shrouds behind thick shield of me
and it stays sealed;
until the mystery of myself never divulge to the open;
I am glad each day is a blessing
that dawns without losing my respect.