It’s not the time to seek refuge
to the fulfilling peace brought by razors
and delicately harness the pain from my thoughts
until I cry out your name in anguished voice.
The words are cutting deep
to my chest and the heavens felt
how pathetic my state have become
yet you’re an angel surrounding me
inside this hole of uncertainty.
My life is hanging on a balance to support
the weight you’re placing on one side
as those feelings weigh a ton
and I spring upwards to the sky
and fell down with scraped knees and broken bones.
But I wrote this piece in cheap words
to better exemplify the pain
along with the sound of the rain
and its waters running along to the path of your name.
And it’s not easy to see
how everything I feel could be
resonating inside your head
and realize how drastic I could get.
But I keep hoping that I’d see you again
and if the seraphs forbid, you would sweetly look into my eyes
and slowly melt the thing I held close to my limbs
and quickly look away after seeing my deluded dreams
and I would never utter a word.
I’ll walk past by knowing that
second glances don’t mean anymore
unless that it’s something that I am yearning for
such as that of those pair of eyes you own imbued with glamour.
You could have me as I am.
As of someone that would be there to understand
and I may not have anything that most men have in common
but I’m always be here for a shoulder to lean on.
How I can always be an open novel
that you could rip and tear its pages
that doesn’t care if you broke its spine–
or have its cover resigned
along with the title that is screaming of more than just words
passing meaningless to your course–
that could be sold in a cheap price on a store
and leave me for someone that deserves you more
as to how a child replaces his toys, outgrowing them of bore.
These dying words shall tell you how I keep struggling
to keep pacing with the signs you’re making
visible to my heart’s blind eyes
impaired by the night’s confusing lights
that once led me to your presence
and turn me to this monster’s statement of defense
as a story no one could ever understand
and possibly the last thing I could say
before I start to let go of your hand,
because the music never stops from making you sway
from the melodies only you know how to play.
But I’ll keep listening to the pattern of the tone
and mess with the chords
and compose my own
and sing to you the madness
you won’t forget to ask me how to perform.
Amidst of all these pain, I’ll stay
even I’ll live with a life, forever feeling gray
of these things that are purely inside my mind
won’t cease to manifest as you crawl back and forth in this head
that could shatter almost everything that I own
because I am used in to being torn
and after all, I’m just a lost boy
with scraped knees and broken bones.
This poem is about our failure to feel fulfilled by our constant consumption of life.
Read it and find out.
The feeling of freedom in escaping from urban life.
It's a direc reflection of what most people feel in this century as they strive to survive