Cuts from those Lights

I’ve been hiding through those lights

that would’ve remind me of that night

when i met those strangers and conquered those fright

and started out those so-called friendship that ended with a fight

never did I imagine

to be feeling this hunger or famine

that I’d be expecting that they give my existence some sort of meaning

but nothing happened, i just got tired of expecting

and even lost that sense of respecting

rejecting, no form of reaching

for what they have against me is full of gossiping

everything misleading

almost deceiving

ain’t no reason for believing

just a pain that is fast approaching

piercing and bruising

cutting and far from  healing



embracing the past, giving it a blast

even if it cuts

at times it is still worth the chance

making your heart beat fast

believing it will last

“I love you still”

forgive thee as I forgive you, 

but if to forget you is what am ought to do

I’m ready

to commit to the fact that having you, loving you and hating you at the same time

is my strength and weakness to get through

to pull through

to be

to live, love and forgive…..

maybe tomorrow or just never

but you’ll have this place in my heart forever



walked into a room of strangers

found a familiar face in a bunch

thy heart pounds in much as fast

don’t know what to do in a sudden rush

a blast from the past went in

emotions of years ago filled in

yet how weird it goes

that nothing follows

ain’t no previous emotion has grown

nothing ponders

no wonders

vanished memories were just as a dust in a hall

uncertainties and complicated set ups were cracked in a mesh

nothing was felt

just like a stranger passing by

in a crowded room and said Hi!


If it haunts you


it’s only once in a lifetime

and never can’t be redefined

never can’t be re-identified

never can it subside

when your time has passed

and all are just part of a past

a past you can’t get rid of

a past that you’re ought to remember on

that may have been the core of you

yet had turned into a major horror

but still with every endeavor

whatever is worth fighting for

at the end of a glimpse

you’re still a survivor

grateful and forgetful

forgiving and giving

understanding and ignoring

yet deep inside is still loving and believing




Life strokes

on a blank sheet of paper a note was written
a note of uncertainty filled with thy doubt and curiosity
either way couldn’t find any reason why something has to happen
it’s as if, being trapped at the middle of the sea, being thirsty, yet ironically
you knew that water surrounds thee,

each stroke of thy pen, has its moves, has its thickness has it’s depth
each day that had passed has its story, has its narration to foretell
going along throughout life seemed like, either being smooth nor too rough nor too light
surviving each moment to come up with what thy heart have desired isn’t always as easy
like a stroke of a pen on a paper, and then

browsing the pages of the moments that had passed
realizing the days that had become, the best, the worst and the neutral,
going back to yesterday isn’t always that good,
foreseeing the future must not be abusive, must not expect a lot
it must be, to play the cards of today and what is present must be set and then

publish the emotion of being relieved and contented
credits for those who have become the contributors of how a simple note has turned into a saga
its like life, live for a simple one, direct thy stroke, like the pens, the pages as its motivation
and the publication of what has turned out to be huge, would always reflect the life that had been unfolded from the first to the last and then . . . .


I WROTE THIS LAST August 19, 2009 at 10:51pm