Old Cat

A plain insensitive,

Oh! The tree is out of perspective,

Of those who walk the path of shadows,

Turning blind eyes to what truth bestows,

Realities unfold,

Like whispers of old,

Oh, what tragedy it is to ignore,

To close eyes and seal hearts,

As though ignorance can shield life's darts,

Like a whisper carried by the wind's gentle breeze,

Words drift away, lost amidst the trees,

Unnoticed, unheard, voice dissolves,

The weight of experiences, struggles, and joys,

The battles fought in silence, no one employs,

They remain hidden, concealed from view,

An unseen tapestry, forgotten and askew,

I'll write truth, with words serene,

For within resides the strength to portray,

The essence of who and what may,

Paint the world with hues of resilience,

Embrace truth with unwavering brilliance,

Power to illuminate lies within,

To let my narrative flourish, my heart to win,

I'll stand tall, a beacon of authenticity,

Embracing my narrative with boundless serenity,

For my story, though hidden, is a masterpiece,

An unfolding saga that shall never cease,

And whether seen or unseen, it shall remain,

A testament to my existence, forever ingrained.