They have a thing for depth,
They’re addicted to an inness that is out of their jurisdiction.
They press their pens when they write,
They go for deeper than normal crucibles,
They plant their seeds much deeper in the soil.
They find closure in the darkness in depths.
They have dark souls.
They don’t care about the beat in the music,
They will go for acapella and acoustic,
Because there is healing in deep lyrics…
There’s softness in closed eyes.
They nod their heads instead of their butts,
They create illusions of perfection in their heads,
They laugh just a little bit louder
They find rejuvenation in the deep caves created by ocean waves.
They wear inched shoes so as to make holes on sinking sand,
Because to them, clay is a mystery.
They have deep hearts,
They stuff all their aches in there,
And when it fills up, their inched soles free their souls.
Deep people are toxic,
They smile at atrocities and fouls,
Pretence is a normalcy to them.
They prefer funerals to weddings,
Because only then can they cry their hearts out.
Deep people do everything with depth,
They love deeply, they hurt…deeply.
And worst, they leave their prints in the sand.