I am from the visual of a closed eye
From the atoms of an empty room
From the cement of the shortest sidewalk
From the paint drips of a Picasso painting
I am from the steps in front of a college
From the equal sign of the toughest equation
I am from the thickness of tar
From the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean
From the rain of a quiet storm
From the atoms of an empty room
From the cement of the shortest sidewalk
From the paint drips of a Picasso painting
I am from the steps in front of a college
From the equal sign of the toughest equation
I am from the thickness of tar
From the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean
From the rain of a quiet storm
From the flames of a winter's fire
I am from where nowhere began
From the ink of a paper-mate product
From the shell of a snail in unknown territory
From the chill of melted ice
I am from the dot of a question mark
From the T in the word independent
From the sound waves of a still silence
From the metal on training wheels
I am from the thread of a karate white belt
From the number 12 on a clock
From the landscape after sunset
From the frame of a picture of the horizon
I am from no one else including myself
-Kuamel Stewart-
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