Me

Often than not, one sees verses
Parading as poetry, yet speak of a life
As such I often sing about my own
For I need not be sung for

These 39 years that I have seen the sun rise,
Set, blare, blaze, soothe and warm
I have often wondered what life is about
And once you touch the nearing 40s
Life wakes you up
For journeys forlorn

Yet I shall travel, sit beside the window
Let the scenery, scary or serene
Burn into my eyes and soul
And at journey's end , dust my clothes
Begin anew

For I am of relentless restlessness
Always wanting to be idle or toiling
Mediocrity is just an impasse
Mediocre is not my storm

The stars, brush strokes, engines and science
Et all makes my life engaged
The politics, the silly drama and slapstick humor
Enrages

I may live each day, live a few hundred more
Only to end in a streak of fluff
Like a shooting star
I am not afraid of the end, I am ready

So before I fade into such, I yearn
I seek
   To see the ends of the earth,
    The edge of the universe
I seek to capture the moon light reflecting
As I capture people and dances
Fruits and droplets of dew
And scribble my thoughts into verse or tweets