Writing – Page 12 – SIMPLE WORLD

tears from gold

The intoxicating stares from emerald

Just as the doctor ordered

Luxury from up high

The towers I mean

Water made pristine

Purified souls

Glorified meat

The burden of sacrifice

Excellence from drive-offs

The smokes brought forth

The carriage made of tender

Wall of fire

All that we lost, they found

All that I found, I spoke

All that was seen, I write

Unholy Package

Online to connect

Maybe for acceptance

The tale goes longer

Always seeking to reach

The pen that fell on soil

The cloud that accepted

Criticism always frowned on

The new world is near you

The old parting away

The touch is you

The slap is dense

Worry not,

Sip, and rage on the forum of blank whites

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