Table clock has rang
Boy has supposed to hang
He should be can
One day he will be a man
I think it is a big fun
Bag has on his shoulder
Books like some big boulder!
And he runs like a smart soldier

@ Musfiq us shaleheen

Dear mother,
I love you and I miss all the kisses from you
You are the nearest thing to my heart
There is nothing. Nothing that can separate us apart.
The way you treat me good.
And the way I treat you like a ****.
I'm really sorry for all those hard times I was rude to you.
But don't worry cause I have the white card
I'll draw your face like a Mona Lisa art.
It's not that smart.
Because with your beautiful face nothing topples the charts.
And I can't say much, after you fed me, dressed me and raised me a man so that I can understand that this life is like a tin can and I'm trapped inside it just like Peter Pan.
May I clap my hands and stand to the greatest angel to ever walk on the ground we stand.

It just doesn't get ****** up more than this
When you tryina search for inner peace inside
Your Combusting skeleton. Some call it happiness. Others call it success. Does it matter long as it's getting you through the state of consciousness
Triggering ambitions of greatness.
Freeing fumes and the toxic carbon monoxide of negativity.
Being as one with your image. Finding symmetry. Learning is just knowledge through study or experience while thought is the system of ideas of how things came to existence.

evening
my Japanese friend returns to his room
I sit in mine
listening to the sound of rotting wood
Then she comes again
sneaking past the sleeping attendant
she looks 14
‘You want make nice nice’
No, I don’t want ‘nice nice’, I say again
She laughs
I refuse, leave my gray fungus covered hotel
walk into a temple
Rows of orange robed monks sit all around
Death not a mystery
He lies in front of me
Burning in his saffron robe
Orange smoke spiraling up
joining night clouds and moon
At midnight
they will come and take his bones
Not a mystery
later, I sit with Buddhist children
playing a guitar
They sing melodies of the east
our voices spiraling up
joining orange clouds and saffron moon

It is not yet midnight

Gold at the end of the rainbow
Smoke flowing out of the fire
Rain falling from dark clouds
Washing away what's left of desire
True Red, bleeding out blood
True Blue, tears soaked through
Truly Purple, royal people,
Brains and thoughts all their own
Yet becoming more the unknown
Less in life, more in death
Gotta die,  
Before someone hears your breath.
Words mean nothing
If their still here to write more
When they're gone
"Quoth the Raven 'Nevermore'"