Invisible

My speech is colourless and aromaless
until I get irate.
My personality is a dancing hurricane
I lock in a crate.

It’s not a twister that launches houses
into a cruel sea.
It’s the ultimate sky surfer’s paradise,
oddly death free.
Some think I am boring and lethargic
others can see me.

Too many are fixated on the surface
and blind to below.
They mistake guesses for knowledge,
so tired myths grow.

 

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