Untitled - 1/21/2026

i used to hate the silence
the thoughts of
constantly critiquing the man i should be
the times of the past, of you and me.

now i see
that in the bellowing reflection of myself
there is nothing past myself.
for i am everything i should be
but not everything i will be.

in a time filled with nothing but noise
the silence of reflection is a gift
not to be taken for granted
granted my sight isn’t canted.