Reach out my hand - but no one is there.
Asking for help - and they all seem to stare.
Stressed to the max - pulling out all of my hair.
House full of mirrors - don\'t know which way is where.
Do the rhymes even work to cure my melencholy.
Do they get the message I\'m sending or just see plain folly.
Waste of my time - you might say probably.
I\'m just following to where I\'m lead; sequence - Fibonacci.
So I write because that\'s what I\'m tasked to do.
Keep writing I\'ll surely figure my way through.
These words - they were meant to be the tools.
And it\'s all in the pacing that I use.
~Introverted Sage~
©️2023I.S.