If I were a poet,
My words could express me.
If I were a singer,
My songs would entune my heart.
If I were a sculptor,
My idols could carve out my feelings.
If I were a painter,
My portraits would be my spokesman.
If I were a danseuse,
My dances could whirl my soul around.
If I were an actor,
My characters would portray my innerselves.
But, Alas! I am none of these. And Hence,
My mind is a dump-yard of my thoughts.
My heart is a truckload of emotions.
My soul is a grave of my feelings.