Why do we become blind,
When we love someone so?
And blind again with hate,
When we let it grow?

We see no flaw in one,
And only flaws in some.
Why do our hearts so easily
Make our minds its gun?

Dear stranger,
I have never met you before
never seen you smile
never held your hands
never looked in your eyes

To me, you are just a stranger
nothing else at all
then why do you
not feel like a stranger at all?

I have never seen your face before
never seen your eyes
yet I feel like I know
your soul
and everything inside

So tell me, why is this so
is it because we are
not strangers at all..?

Excuses,excuses,excuses,
I am tired of you lazies,
For once why don't you handover your homework on time,
Thus, make my life devine.
Don't tell me your little sibling tore your homework,
Or you were absent, such bad luck,
Your grandmother spilled tea on your maths sheet,
Here, to give you is not fit.
I am tired of your lame pretexts,
Finish at break,I will be less vexed
What!You  finished your homework and you left it at home,
Well, call your mum to bring it when she comes,
I didn't understand the topic, can you please explain,
What were you doing when I went over it again and again?
I started to do my homework when the lights went off,Sir,
Most homes now have inverters
or generators.
I know you find the tasks I give you a bore,
Do you think marking them at home I adore?
So, please help me not to spoil your break or give you detention.
Do your homework on time and with great attention.

you don't exist when
my eyes are open
you don't exist when
my blood's not poisoned
when my soul's at peace
when my gut is full
and when I'm in company

So you exist most of the time
dear muse

I close my eyes and I am transported
to a rainforest during a deluge
where the steam rises and turns
everything misty and magical,
and in the distance, tribal drums
beat in cadence to the rain.
When reality draws me back to the now,
there is a chill to the February rain
and the tribal beat is merely the dancing
of rain upon an old rusted paint can.

1719

God is indeed a jealous God—
He cannot bear to see
That we had rather not with Him
But with each other play.

Of all the things I never said,
I wish I’d told her
“I love you”
before he did.

Her eyes were
the most exquisite shade
of cerulean blue.
Her daughter’s are too—

I remember
the day she arrived,
the day you slipped away, too.

Lost on October third,
two thousand twenty-two...
Could you have stayed
if I’d told you?

Every day then—
and now—
I wish I’d gone
to see you.