Writing and Creations

I cannot be the red rose But even a black rose is admired If that is true, The worth will be realized someday Owing to the patience held to be understood If not today, it will happen one day

Behind those closed doors, I can feel myself, Behind the loud music raging in my ears I can still feel myself Beneath that quilt, I can sense myself Under the layers of these clothes, It is me As I went deep inside myself to my heart It was you Watching myself throughout the day, It is you who I came to in the last. That is where my search ends.