Stranger

strange person sitting on bench under tree

In the brio, came across many people, but a stranger was always in mind,

Encountered a long time ago, however still on brain box artistically inclined.

Don't know why the stranger made me feel strange and welcoming,

Self at all times reckoning, comparing and also cherishing.

The strange man looking at the sea
The strange man looking at the sea

The stranger never revealed his true distinctiveness viz personality,

However, could sense his heart worthy and familiarity gleamingly.

No matter what the stranger never failed to freeze and astonish with his actions,

In addition, on the contrary, constantly endures his inbound competence.

The strange man looking at the sun light
The strange man looking at the sun light

Whenever the stranger made his presence, hard was the feeling to comprehend,

Consequently, never felt abandoned and heart was enlightened.

On the other hand, the stranger's superiority locomoted to become envious,

At the same time catching sight of him took the wings of camellias.

My inner positive admiration and soft corner for him, he is no more a stranger, hard was to name the relationship.

But he verbalized casually, in fact, in his life am nothing but a normal ordinary human, a passing cloud, accordingly making my brio a film clip.

Days passed by and remembering him occasionally cannot be denied,

Consequently, thinking about whether this known bizarre will take a trip down memory lane when he caught sight hence shines the light.

A Poem About Me (revised)

portrait of a boy with curly hair wearing a black shirt

How to write a poem about me

The boy who lived by the sea

As a youngster, I was not a loudspeaker

Just a shy and quiet teenager

Who wondered about Dreams of the Heart

With my visions of yesteryear Well Preserved

I loved Vegemite, honey, and ice-cream

Then my life became Just a Little Dream

Looking at the Crystal Clear Shallows on the bay

I saw Ripples of Inconsiderateness turn my hair grey

Struggling, life was disappearing after my stroke

Emotionally I was crying out, Who’s Left to Row the Boat

Needing strength, my stars echoed, “I do Thee Shine”

Now I'm left with these Words of Mine

Recalling the days during her Everlasting Smile

Leaving my empty hands full of Memories and Rhymes

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