Is it pride that has you falling deeply into the void of despair? Is it fear that cripples you? Is it the many sins of your thoughts that has you crouching in timidity? Is it uncertainty that makes you peep through the crack of your fragile shell? All that you stuff into your mask of many expressions, Your mask devoid of honesty, The beauty that covers the green venomous bitter soul that you are, I write to snatch that mask from you, The truth for the world to see, To feel your fears. To heal. So you never forget the world cares not, That your wings may spring forth from your burden laden shoulder. For you to sour on a cloud of truth.


Young and enthusiastic, poet of emotions, art is not just meant for political liberation.

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