I am but an empty bottle of air freshener,
sprayed till there is no more.
I fill the air
with illusions
and mysteries.
My scent for all to breathe,
full of blooming lilacs, ground ginger, and laundered linens
there to reject,
as if I was a blown out wick
with steams of billowing smoke
that shady grey cloud misunderstood.
But who will bother with me?
A mixture of incenses
confusing the nose–
No one cares
but what you see is not what is.
For my fragrance is potent
yet many people remain congested
of such pleasantry.

I wish one were to smell,
someone to know
to see me like a glimmer shines in a diamond
but I am that one unidentified,
to be mystified over.
So it shall be,
the glorification and beauty
of all there is to wonder.

~Written a few months ago in Creative Writing, a class I do miss


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