Writing – Page 12 – SIMPLE WORLD

here and there

Often too serious

The deeper it gets, the duller it reads

Sometimes, that is

The meaning remains

The reader counts loss

The flow never fluctuating

Though, the view is beautiful

Acceptance was never fully regained

Berry Henny

Been a while

Since the word became a message

In shame

All the same

Before turns to after

No later than the time I started

Empty credits

Empty Zeros

Over drafted paper bags

Crack the purpose

Never looking into a mirror

Always down into the river of wine and sorrow

Stressful society begs and pleads

She lost, now he wants

Mine is mine

All I have is ink and sweat

The boy sits on the swing all by himself waiting for no one in particular. Back and forth without putting any effort, he swings. The rain falls and pours with haste still the boy remained calm while looking ahead into nothing. With disregard, the pain crawls up from his stomach and flushes into his heart. He watches other kids laugh while their parents joyfully play with them. The boy sits on the swing staring ahead wishing for the family he never had. He wished for the joys he had never tasted. He was sure the warmth of having parents would be sweet unlike this bitter sour feeling on his tongue. The boy sat on the swing crying and wishing for another life. “Another again,” he said.

Striking Resemblance

I steer clear from the pretentious

My wheels of thoughts drive off

Into there and here

Looking for a road without dust

How pretentious.

Away, again, I found that same road

Another trace of lies

From the start, it seemed anew

But, the finish begged to differ

Never repeating my mistakes

I lunged into the old tale called love

Hoping to keep sanity

How pretentious.

Finders Keepers

We all need somebody

The blow was heavy

So we ask for rest

Bright in the day

The stab was deep

At a time when all we knew was red

We all need somebody

We all need another

Another to quench the thirst

Another to heal the bruise

Another to say all is well

Glass Messages

The preacher lied, they said

Some danced, others watched

We all live in a lie, a few whispered

A tear never wasted

A reservoir of redemption

Living where no soul dared

All vanity, he said

Yet they knew he spoke some truth

People of the Night

At this hour
Those without sleep, still search
The day was unsuccessful,
So they wait quietly in the night
Hopeful
Without any rightful mission in mind
While,
Some crave for sex in the darkness
Others crave for nothing in particular
Depriving themselves of sleep,
Only to lay down for a few hours,
And wake up miserable in the morning

Flow

In conflict, the love for friction

On soil, the seeds hold on tighter

On paper, the lies sink deeper

In all there is

Then or now

All can be saved

In mind, paint another dream

In soul, cry for another time

Deeply Played

The game of rags and black water

Higher and much lower they go

Always seeking the tops of this and that

Flapping their dirt to those who dare to look

Always holding on onto vane vanity

Don’t we all?

They fear the fear of death

The truth keeps on missing its mark

Idolized Decadence

Paths full with shattered dreams

A requiem for the elected rich

Misery for the mass

A new day, we must seek

A new day, we must pray

A new day, I must write

Sour Orange

I still wonder why you like the room lit so dim. I can hardly see you when you cry. If you let go of my grip, the scene of misery will last on forever. Hold on tighter. Drag my rags closer to your shattered chest. Pierce deep into my skin; pain always tasted so bittersweet. Our time lasted only till the sound of the bird.

A mockingbird, indeed

Too soon enough to begin, I guess?

With my taste buds gone sour, I shut off those twisted tunes and threw them deep into the skies; far away, where those spacemen could only dream of. A secret place you might know of. I never ever forgot about those long delusional days filled with gifted silence and much red.

Will I ever taste sweet again?

Too much sourness

Stop this or I might bleed out

Drowning in my own feelings

Looking up at the river-like sky

Oh great blue monster, cry down your own worries

So that I may drink and sink.

So they say you speak no more of me. I strived hard to wait for another word from your big egotistical book. I hoped to dream into the realization that it was never ever to begin.

Bombs I left untouched

Scattered there and here

Some by your place

Falling down

Your hair ever so bright

So they say you speak no more of me.

I strived and strived to begin at the beginning.

Always seeking, and never asking

So they say you speak no more of me

I say you talk shit