My eyes glow in the diminutive space where the moon's dim light glimpse into my lonely world.
He's so captivating.
My mind wipes the thick bristles of the brush back and forth to create the particular scene again and again.

His demanding voice echoed throughout the whole town, that made my surroundings feel so vacant.

He gains power as the friction between the tracks and his feet work in unity.

He glides through the night with great vigilance and bravery, as his force is not to be reckoned with.

The consistent toil on his feet is the key to stretching towards the destination he needs to reach.

The way he illuminates his path, making you feel as if you're watching the film of his journey,
as the lights flicker through the stars and leaves creating a beautiful scene,
enticing me to understand more about
history.

I hear him,
demanding to receive
the recognition that he
deserves.

I see him,
the way he picks himself up
time after time,
only for the people who clench their teeth in his company.

I feel him,
aching to be accepted for the dedicated work he consistently pursues,
as the world screams "it's not enough",
always searching for someone
with pampered feet to perform greater
than his bleeding ones.

I can taste him,
his thick smoke
that consumes both our spaces
uninvitingly.

Teach me,
teach me how to build strength
from unaccounted works and countless hours of running,
only for others who hold no reward of worth
as they soak in ignorance
and selfish intent.

For his agility in his abilities and integrity
for giving
more than what was asked for,
only to desire deeply
to be recognized for at least
the beauty of his being.

Even though he hides between the trees,
even though he is painted in ebony and streets,
even though when he demands attention in his short passing,
he is perceived as something that is not needed and stays unpresented with any prestige.

Treating him
as if he didn't give them the things they depend on.

I still gaze upon his nightly walks,
lingering in the silence of his countless breakneck turmoil,
and undeviatingly working
as negligence strikes him,

that there is always at least one pair of glowing eyes that recognizes him correctly.

it's 5am and i think i'm learning what love is