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.

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