I am an artist
I paint pages with my pen.
I am a sculptor
I sculpt my characters.
I am a genie
I grant them their desires, and mine.
I am a potter
making vessels of clay.
I am the village wife
traveling miles to fill them with water.
I am the sand
that constitutes the vessels
and the clay
that binds it.
I am the driver
who takes them places.
I am the eyes on the street
that observes them
that judges them.
I am the mystic
who knows their future
I am the psychiatrist
who tells them their problems
I am their humility.
But this arrogance is all mine.
2 comments:
Simple yet wonderful! Amazing analogies, one after the other!
I am new hither.. pray, tell me who writes this beautiful poetry..
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