Welcome, Travelers To my humble abode. May you sit, There is chair to enjoy. May you stand, There is painting to enjoy. This lobby, A place for every guest To enjoy the best spread Of food and beverage. My kitchen Is not, Unfortunately.
Welcome, fellow travelers. Leave when your storm ends.
My best friends once reminded me of how I should be afraid of being misunderstood and my response to them was “I am ok to be misunderstood by those who don’t have enough knowledge and/or love to understand who I am and what I am doing.”
They still say the same thing in different ways. I answer the same way.
Life’s misunderstood As blurred when eyes are cloudy. Beauty is constant Not to the eyes. To the heart It’s a bunch of what’s biutyful.
Observing the observer—
Let them misunderstand whatever about your own self as a secret is a secret that will remain mystery to those sleeping or cloudy eyes. If bright eyes can be tricked with a sheet of A4, what will a block of wall do to those cloudy?
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