Some would call me a dreamer.

Others, a childish shirker of responsibility;

And still, others, a hopeful simplist.

But I am none of those things.

Those things all have negative connotations; I, however, do not.

I am trying to find my place in this world.

I am aiming to do good in this life.

I am learning to thrive on only bare beauty.

I am an embodiment of positive connotation,

a fluid piece of poetry,

a light fall of rain,

a potent whiff of color.

I am not to be trifled with, but I will extent grace.

I am not in the habit of comparison, but I will do my utmost to appreciate otherlings.

I am not one to lead with logic, but will often get lost in my thoughts.

And you, a stranger, you are an oblivious fog, a mystery;

An intrigue, a song, that makes up your spiraling DNA and poses as a marble statue.

Your voice is fierce and thunderous, your feelings striking and bold.

We apprehend living by the scruff of the neck and throw it into eternity as far as we can.

We cower when Uncertainty walks, but we long to follow it's path.

We are the blemish in the expanse of space, but give art to it's working.

We are not so different, you and I.

But somehow, we all feel vaguely alone.