Don’t seize my candles, how do you expect me to see? To see in this darkness please hear my plea.
“Seize her candles. Darn it”,said he.
Please Sir this is all i’ve got. Not a degree— which i’m sure you’ll need but the key. “Have you even washed the dishes or fed your children”. You are a woman you see and nothing but a debris in my canvas.
A canvas filled with ups and downs, animals and birds. Where bears, bulls, doves, and hawks gather for flesh. Oh, my dear these candles need not echo for we are mostly mentally deaf and emotionally blind. Even with the candles you won’t be able to see.
I am a trader and I’m dumb. I know what to say but words fail me. I look for originality or maybe, I should say: “personality flair”. Where’s this originality? Funny, I see it when I stare at the mirror. However, it so damn far to reach. “If only I could reach it”—Sarah huffed.
My name’s Sarah and I’m a copy. Maybe just only going to be a copy of my parents imagination, or my dad’s lucky sperm. All I see are canvas and candles of other different artists but never seem to see mine. Oh, let’s add that to my CV then. I’m probably blind to. How do I take my own trades? The other day on youtube, I heard, “oh, woah you trade just like Anthony”. Lol, who the hell is Anthony and why should I trade like him? I hate that. I need mine.