A Multipotentialite

Happiness is Me

He layers cologne like a stanza’s refrain,
Cinnamon, amber, the thrill in the rain.
His shelf holds more bottles than most hold dreams—
Each scent is a new poem, in sugar and steam.

He teaches in silence, with chalk and a smile,
Rewriting young lives, one rural mile.
He games, he debates, he crafts with care,
Each interest is a mirror of passion laid bare.

His days bloom with color, no minute is spare,
He lives with intent, with style, with flair.
from poems to perfumes, from speeches to beats—
His hobbies are fires that never retreat.

His voice, a hush that turns heads in a crowd,
soft velvet in tone, yet endlessly proud.
each note like a promise, each lyric a flame—
When Soham sings, silence forgets its name.