Self Confessed

For I’m not ready to be branded
Simply emotional.
Funny I still write
Yet words seem to have failed me the most.
I don’t know why I write
I fumble with words
Yet again.
It’s a pencil to the hand
Trying to join the click
But my soul declines.
I’m not free yet
I’m still in a riddle
So puzzled yet so figured
The irony of matters.
My soul is in too deep.
I don’t know how to exercise control
For I seek a companion.
I have met many I thought perfect
Left me in No second.
I walk a path I don’t know
With knowledge a summary or more.
Place a smile
Sunshine and roses
Tears dried
Whom do I call mine?
I am not understood
Neither can I understand.
But I take a chance
And I make a stand
Move forward to enhance
My incomplete master plan.


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