I find myself at the sea,
With all the broken pieces of me,
The caressing sound of the waves,
And their never ending octaves.
I find myself alone,
No one to aid or moan,
No one who sees me through,
No one within my view.
I find myself when I paint,
In every color and in every saint,
In every stroke of black and white,
Mixing everything else that is bright.
I find myself when I write,
About the oceans and the sea,
In search of who I could be,
In search of the one I miss,
In search of the trail to bliss,
Sometimes,something’s are just a part of you,
They may not be many but a few,
They make you for who you are,
How you keep it is,
Is how you scar…..