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Never imagined a poem
Dreams of having a dream, visions of the unseen.
Walking on a disowned path, a misguided rat scat.
amazed on what he has seen, great history's boasted its grin.
He thought he had found his muse. never has he been more confused.
Walked, his feet moves along this alleged path.
Looked, his eyes feasted yet stared flat
touched, his hands, it felt of something real
a delusion off a young one's well-grown fantasy
He grew well on his time with the guidance of the sublime
He is ordinary, just a leaf on a stream, a twig on a breeze
A futile attempt of conspiracy, he knew so he believed on its fallacy.
he is special, and the least about him is him being ordinary.
