Poetry
Poetry is a classic love letter.
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The Hardest Part of a Job
The hardest part of a job is to pretend you are working. An hour seems a lifetime especially during Monday mornings. Alt-Tab, to hide games and shows when the Boss is looking. A mastery of the skill, good plan and luck and you’ll be succeeding.
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A Late Bloomer’s Thoughts
Sometimes, When I can't think of something to write, I blame the hot weather on a cold December. I heard every noise and distractions a night can offer. I push myself up to the last thought, but I'll end spending hours staring on a blank paper, thoughts wandering but nowhere to go.
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Don’t Forget My Name
Remember me in your prayers. Cleanse my name through your solitude and contemplation. At least, do me this favor. That I may fully understand why you’ve chosen this devotion over me.
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My Bus Ride
As I step inside the bus, As it moves its wheels, To somewhere, somewhere, Wherever the road leads us, I wonder. As the view from the window changes, As the wind blew on my face, We are far, far away, Excitement fills the air, my eyes wander. How sad it is for some, That only thought of their destination, Who can’t feel the anticipation, The surprise that may come along the way. As I sit inside the bus, I wonder what stories I pass by. I try to look at everything, Though so fast, I’m trying. Tough how many hours I must sit, Even all I can see were just…
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Midnight
Lights off, the world is sleeping. Dogs howl, cricket’s watching. The stream flows; Soft whispers; Rain falls, it gives shivers. A woman sleeps; A man is naked. Stars wink, trees faded. Curtains down; Music is low. Old man’s breathing, a silent moan. Painful cry; Hurrying footsteps. A knock on the door Unveiling secrets.
