Forgive me if I do not follow
Your journey in real time.
It is not a slight,
But a selfish endeavor
To retain my voice.
Your originality frightens me.
The modest consolation
I offer you
Reveals the compulsion
To fail myself.
My beer-stained travels
End in your grotto.
I stalk and spy,
Dining on the letters
And colors in your conscience.
Indulge my anonyminity,
For I observe and listen
In my invisibility cloak
To maintain your greatness.
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