Poetry: To The One Who Bears Me In His Heart

To The One Who Bears Me In His Heart,

What chance do you have of finding me?

Do not look at them! Surely, you are the body that clothes my existence!

Have you become so ignorant that you help others and exile yourself?

That, my friend is your illness, your constant need to gawk into he or she,

You’ve been observing all else so hard that you have completely forgotten me,

The irony of it all is that I am clearer than that which you breathe,

Although I must say my dear, you have left me lonely since you started to admonish.

Nevertheless I am here! I always will be! Like a moth that harnesses itself to the light,

And when that light ceases to glow... synonymous to your insignificant life, I too will go.

But until then, I will be perched, sitting veiled upon your heart,

And when you gaze in the mirror, I advise you to scrutinise the ‘work of art’.


With love,
Your Faults.