Dusty Books.

​Crazy is sometimes the basis of genius

drifting between the real and the fictitious

Losing altitude with every breath of reality

Plunging into unfathomable depths of insanity

Everything’s black and white until…

I block out everything that’s real…

Then I find in me an array of colours

the Art in me awakens and devours

I find no trace of inhibitions

that hold me back, no decisions

Mama says NO and there goes my cue

I rebel, go outside and get the flu

For deep within my elements

I hold in me the heavens

Sparks that alight in the night

Stuck in a winning fight

Tell me this and kid me not,

Haven’t you ever been a dot?

A simple minded human being

A fallen angel with broken wings

And have you never felt like you…

Were just another abandoned book

Full of mystery within yourself

But left untouched on a dusty shelf

That is life. I promise you. It is crazy,but so are you

After all the books are borrowed,and the library gets hollowed

And time flies by like a scary movie montage

And in a sense you become old, vintage

Nothing will be as beautiful as…

your timeless essence in a changing earth

And the stories you still haven’t told 

Will be dusted off and treasured as gold.

Collin Atuti.


5 thoughts on “Dusty Books.

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