A part of me is rarely seen.
Hidden even from myself
This me in solitude waits
Standing watching.
Quieter, softer, dappling grey
Unimpressed and unafraid the
Strident cries of multitudes
Pass by
Invisible to the naked eye
The hidden me in darkness listens
Feeling the watching silence.
Whispering ripple of dissent
Strength in the wait
Coiled in an eternal spring
Alert content in seamless comfort
Instinct grows and bides.
A Self Portrait...
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