When I was younger, I used to write in riddles and I used to write in rhymes.  I thought that by doing so, that I might capture the attention of my reader.  I never anticipated I’d be writing for a specific audience; I wrote the way I felt in my heart and soul to be true, not realizing or accepting the fact that while patience might be common, intellect is not.  Perhaps the true meaning behind my words might never be revealed, instead blinded by the manner in which they were written. I used to write in sketchbooks with plain white pages; always in blue ink, and always in very…