A Curios Case

A Curious Case

He who suffers “silence-disease”,
Petrified of how medication feels.
For the twinge never seemed to cease,
That twinge kills; his spirit it steals.

He who sets under humanity,
Never tried to peek out of his shell.
Warts of shame and boils of secrecy,
Clear symptoms yet he never tell.

He who lived in a solitary choice,
Speckled a “Quest for Knowledge” kit one day.
Contained a pen, some papers, and a voice,
He whose remedy is just a gut away.

No manual, no specifications;
Just wedged with himself and his ailing will.
But saw an inscription of aspirations:
“Just do it or you’ll remain this way still.”

He, who felt curious, grabbed the pen.
At a snail's pace he centers his sore eyes.
He who felt an aura of motivation descent,
Inspiration, use it before it dries.

He who thought of flaws of humanity,
Wanted to perceive and depict.
Why are still there people trying to be free?
And he called it his topic.

He who thinks more clearly,
Organizes his ideas,
Pain, wrath, simony;
Among others, among senses.

He who felt really anxious,
Realized the missing yet pretty essential anthem.
A writ of flaws is devious,
Why should the way he saw the problem is the problem?

He who thought that way, revised.
He proposed “change” for humanity’s actions.
To solve, a justice scale he devised.
Balance the flaws with equivalent solutions.

He who streamed papers upon his counter,
Wrote what he thought and read what he wrote.
He linked “striking” and “wisdom” together.
Two things seldom found on this world near to bloat.

He whose swells diminished and shame degraded,
Now has one thing to pursue.
Use the voice to greater excellence, be applauded.
The cure’s about to come true.

Shakespeare speaks:
If you address love, speak low.
He who seeks:
If you speak change, never say “no”.

He who finds his rightful place, the stage,
Plans to put the crowd into his written trance.
He gathers what is left of him, the rage,
He set confidence a mile from arrogance.

Striking and wisdom he taught,
Flaws and solutions he equated.
“Silence-disease” he had fought,
All by himself, he succeeded.

It matters not how timid,
How imperfections come a-spurt.
Everyone can be vivid,
A little faith wouldn’t hurt.