I make myself with words

limited, and full.

I put a period there, to make my point.

I build myself, like a sentence.

In my DNA, are letters—D-N-A.

Double Helix

Double, the Fire Power.

I’m a fighter.

What I am, is more than you will ever know.

My sentence is a Zen Koan

I try to understand it

I read it

Several simple words, I can’t comprehend.

Profound.

We all have a simple sentence to carry around.

The one we give ourselves,

or the other,

written down

by someone

who doesn’t care.

I have run out of words

I can’t spell

The words I want to write, are full of delight

there is no period there, no end, in sight.

The words they tell me to put down,

are a death sentence.

Nobody reads the book of death

The book of life

is beautiful to behold.

We are searching for

that simple sentence—What will we do, with our life?

I was born for a reason—How about you?

I know how small I am

in a universe of languages,

but six simple words

is all that I need—

a period

at the end

of a sentence

to find

meaning.