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Droppin’ dimes, pitching pennies
Casting lots, chances spinning
I’m surely One, but of how many?
Good and plenty, counting lines to vaccine
This pen brings news, singing blues to eyes
Beating master keys to transverse, in mind’ matters
Seemingly scattered, easy to miss, like yesterday’s kiss
Opportunities are bliss like fate can easily twist
Old soul, to new jack or jill cosplaying falls among these ink spills
No skills 2b, just an undergraduate, writing pieces of thesis
No title as of yet as I still don’t fully realize how sick is this ‘ill 2b’gets
So, at times I mimes in chill, cooking time stewing mind in mirror grills
Hopes’ 2b like food for thought, quite holistically intrinsic sustenance
Excising memory muscle, from back in the day, for a future’s déjà vu
One day I will write a few more lines, that convey where I have been or what I am going thru….
