To whom i write that knows not,
Of course the secets of everyday life are hidden in ink and scrolls,
Such that the wise are separated from the ignorant,
Theres a noble cause that inspires me to write,
The very reason i shall say a thousand words and you pick none,
Simply because your caught up in self,
Hardly can you see beyond you,
For you bear the seed of selfcenteredness.
You probably might read this,
As you drown in the shalowness of your naked mind,
Appear as the saint but we all know there can only be one JANE EYRE
If by chance you gain sight,
I pray you remember this
That my heart was too heavy for you to carry
And that life is only a gift
If you choose to make it so...
The fool reads on,
Forgetting this was only a predicament,
Of a story of the lost mind.
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