'Observing every single thing
Listening to what they are saying,
Seeing what they gloss over and ignore,
Wondering why are these things this way
My outlook is telling me something different
I gaze at them with my sharp eyes
Becoming so alert that I hear nothing else.'
...is this how life goes, I hear myself think.
Gazing into the eyes of those that see me,
I wonder if they really see me beyond the colours of this plane,
do they see I have been painting myself? from the pensive artist, to the insouciant?