I, me and myself..

casual smile;
all the while.

all questions,
be they easy or
even tough,
my answers
seem enough.

I talk direct,
never serious;
much jest,
much love,
much zest;
I’m at times,
like a pest.

Always same,
for old habits
can’t change;
innocent yet
very mature,
of my future
I seem sure.

I am me,
if I stop,
can you be?
No. I am me;
only I can be.

Linked with OctPoWriMo (Day 29, Me).

(’12, Oct 29)

Poetry & writing are to me, a breath of fresh air in a life that is sometimes covered by the smoke of sorrow or self doubt. They also become the sweets I share to celebrate when life offers me a reason to. But most of all, they are to me, my life. For each word I write is a piece of my heart, a thought that just had to find its way into the world.

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