If you told me
I could fly,
You know I would believe you.
I wish you did say the lovely things
at right time
But that’s just a kid blabbering
spoiled by a loving mom.
Don’t shower me with gratitude
It will leave me helpless
in case you won’t be around
All I really want is Continue reading
I can still remember the time when I wanted to be an adult, really bad. It was a kind summer. I was just eight. Kids were playing on the ground. When I am saying kids, I am talking about the “kids” a year or more younger than me. I never wanted to be called a kiddo or ‘kids’. None should have made the mistake. But one person did.
The weather brought cool breeze. Unlike in movies, the bangs of my hair were swinging wildly with the wind. Man, my mom, who happens to be a hairdresser doesn’t seem to know my struggle. No, I never had one of those moments when my hair flows perfectly against the wind to catch anyone’s attention. Nobody did. At least that’s what I thought. Continue reading
Will you remember me
if I give up my life right now
Boy, do I fear death
Ask a happy person if he prefers to die
The answer is a straight “No”
Oh the irony.
There’s this fear of being forgotten,
I don’t want you to remember me and cry Continue reading
The gravitation of my favourite bed
These few months, I am not myself
I find it extremely easy to stare at a white screen for as long as I know
Back resting on the cold walls, on the bed
It’s winter and the walls are cold
But I need to settle down the heat burning inside of me.
Waking up is the hardest thing to do
So are the best parts of my life, the things I loved,
I hate it when
one has to go through all the sufferings
to understand a true bliss
Why suffer in the first place.
I hate when people struggle
like every single day
There must be an easy way around.
But ”hard way is a good way” kinda impression
is set on our minds
Being a semi-narcissist, I thought I would introduce a bit about myself and how I am a great Sophie Kinsella fan and how much I love her writing. And, ahum, how much I am keen at writing. And, you know, I am kinda into poems and stuff. But, who am I kidding anyway! I have no competition with her. Besides, I don’t wanna sound like that Bill Lington who would want his face on his own coffee company’s cups. (He’s a character in the book by the way, in case you were wondering.) Continue reading
At night I wish I could be a song
to wipe away all of the tears
of the lonely parents
Broken hearted singles
I wish to be a president
I can’t stand people
ragged cloth, sleeping like a dog