I fought a war so tough,
Kicking and throwing my fists in air,
I used knifes and pangas,
Clamps and rods,
My fingers were strong ,
My biceps were quick,
My brain was sharp...

I trained as hard,
Did as excellent ,
Worked in orderly program.
I thought I was excelling !

Finally ,
My battle for life grew weaker,
My muscles were strained ,
My brain was stained,
I resorted to die,
I accepted to loose.

Doing great from the start,
But I died,on the finish line.
I dropped out of way,
That is why ,I ask where loosers go,
I need to go there.

I know you see me a poet,
But I am not one,
I am mathematician ,full of formulae,
I am a chemist,full of stoichometric equations.
My duty in poetry is small,
To just let out true information,
That cut into deep my heart ,
And make me crazy.
I don't think I makes me a poet,
Perhaps it makes look like,
But I feel it within me,
Flowing like tap water ,
No strain,no pressure.
But I am in the sea of mathematics,
Where the inlet and the outlet is chemistry.
So you know me.

My old shirt that I wore four years ago ,
Touches my feelings again,
I cannot fit into it,but I can force my body in,
I have a wish;to look just like I did,
To expose my muscles,
How I wish Ivyn comes around,
She bought the shirt herself,
She was my girlfriend ,
But something went wrong somewhere ,
The fateful night she stroke my heart ,
With a red hot nail,
"I don't need you anymore"
She said,
Was the same night I hang my favorite shirt,
From the day,haven't worn again...
But today I miss her,
I need her touch,
How I feel her presence in her absence,
I need her to complement me,
She should tell me how I look in my old shirt,
The one she bought.
I love her again.

My cigar awakes my sanity ...
I take a puff and I start to see,
I begin to think ,
I start to smile alone,
I regain my subconscious being .

The irony of talking to people not with me start,
I write to the dead,
They almost immediately reply,
And I begin  to own what I lack,
This makes me feel so good.

When my packet is left with two,
I begin to stress,
I see a hard time,
I regret my inabilities,
I call for more,just because i cannot live without.
I am addicted to cigarettes.

I don't know why.........
Perhaps i am yet to know,
But the people i love
Always dont seem to reply me love
Dont feel what i do,
They assume my internal emotion,
They drive me crazy,
They make me hate myself,
Perhaps i set quite big bars,
They cant make to climb...
Perhaps i look too ugly,
Perhaps i am never romantic,
But i have true emmotion!!!!!
Should i cheat to win?
Should i buy all of it?
No i dont know...
It just provokes alot anger
To be in love!!

Mere fore letter word punnish me,
Not a big deal to utter ,
But the reception pains....
No time,
No peace,
No anything ,
Just hate for love ,
Just pain for trust,
Just unkindness for patience and goodness...
I value not color,
Not size,
Not material ,
But charracter and appealing to the invisible
spirit and force...
I hate loving.
I will love no more.

I got my pen to write,
After long hours of thoughts,imagination and inspiration,
All I could write was,
"Oh my God,I got nothing better to write"
I ended my day there,feeling satisfied and okay.