most often sleepless
when reality fled
the hidden beauty in sadness
is the "missing you" unsaid
damn the plaster
it's only first aid
i'll make it all better
without the bandage
Image: Ouch! tin can plaster. Available at Aksara Book Store. Product by Worldwide Co.
One end to another extreme
Deciding what is best in between
Without getting caught in the mainstream
For I want still to retain the paradox twin
Forgive my sins
From what the heart brings
The truest feelings
Of my secret longings
One or two
Numbers don't tell stories
A or B
Alphabets don't make up stories
Who does ?
It's the fucking author
Where's that bottle of ink ?
Let me pour it all into a bowl
Full of alphabet cereal
And I'll take it
As my fucking breakfast
I won't write nomore
Instead, whisper silent prayers
To embrace me in my fucking sleep
When morning comes
Using water from last night rain
Rested on leaves of an ivy plant
As transparent ink
Pissing at the fucking world
I write silent graffiti
On the neighbor's wall
Two little kids
A boy and a girl
Walk hand in hand
Two little hands
Inside a cookie jar
Performing innocent crime
Share the walk
Share the cookies
Share the moment
Cookies in hand
They run in a park
Laughing and eating
Till one of them fell
Half eaten cookie on the ground
And a broken skin on his knee
As his laughter stop
The other watched
Cookie still in her hand
Unsure of what to do
She comes slowly closer
And sit next to him
Teardrops on his cheeks
Signaling the pain he is in
Wishing it to go away
Still unsure of what to do
But knowing that he is in pain
She offers her cookie to him
He smiles but shake his head
Just knowing that she knows
Is half the remedy to ease the pain
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