Shades of His Future

He said he would paint the soles of his feet,
Paint them some absurd colour, maybe purple, or black
So that every time he would walk down the street,
They’d see for themselves, he was leaving a mark.

He said he would scent his each and every word,
Apple cider, eucalyptus, frankincense, blueberry or sunflower,
So that every time that they were heard,
They’d hear for themselves, this was his hour.

He said he would spice the work of his hands,
Exotic spices, cayenne pepper, dhana jeera and a dash of cinnamon,
So that every time he executed his plans,
They’d taste for themselves, he was going to be the man.

He said he would choreograph his dreams,
Swift salsa, beautiful ballroom, complex chacha, cover all his bases
So that when he told the of his schemes,
They would know for themselves, he was going places.

He said he would engrave an effigy on his palms,
An image reflecting the person that he wanted, one day, to be,
So that whenever they looked in his eyes, shook his hand,
They’d feel for themselves, he wanted to be free.

He said he would paint the soles of his feet,
Paint them some absurd colour, maybe purple, or black
So that every time he would walk down the street,
They’d see for themselves, he was making a mark