The warmth within my hands.
My hands within your grasps.
My eyes glitter a gland.
A battlefield of words and spasm.

The fear of criticism.
The fright of mocking.
The horrible realism.
Oh, so horrifying.

A battle is always a mirage
So take out your paper sheet.
And stand up with such courage
Of love, ink and lead.

A world slowly darkening.
A dimension gradually breaking.
The sky looks as if it's crashing.

All I did was standing still.

Still, as time was moving.
Still, as life was worsening.
Still, and slowly as I'm dying.

And my poetry remains.

Unenlightened.
Unacceptable.
Uncontrollable.

Guitar.
Organya.
I can already sense
Compliments and complains.

A new instrument.
For a new excitement.
One thing you never tried before
Suddenly is the thing you adore.

I'm getting a new instrument.
To bring music to my enjoyment.
To make life a little sweeter.
And to make our love more bitter.

Making an apple pie.
But I'm very shy.
What will he think
About my little pie?

I am very worried.
My little heart is buried
Within the effort
To make this pie well-baked.

I hope he will like it.
Or else my effort goes to a pit
A pit of shame and embarrassment
Or a pit of love and vivid.

A silent night.
Ambience.
You and me, side by side.
Sitting in the silence.

Giving cookies.
Holding hands.
Huggies.
Warmth in our hands.

A quiet night.
It's so calming.
How could one think
We are siblings?

Blue moon.
Is it possible?
He said it will come soon.
I dunno if it's gonna be horrible...

He said when the blue moon comes
It's when everything shows their true glory.
When even the things that are troublesome
Become as cute and as happy.

But no such thing can happen, right?
Because the blue moon never happens.
But one thing that is always right
Is that you will always keep me enlightened.

Staring out the window
It's so boring now.
Boring studies, boring atmosphere.
I hate sitting in here.

Staring out the window.
Tapping the pencil I borrow.
Looking blankly outside.
Suddenly, a butterfly.

Staring out with an urge
To set free from this study course.
To play along with butterflies
And to see how bright I can shine.

I'm so bored.
I'm just laying on my bed.
Listening to a song,
Trying to sing along.

I'm bored, I remain silent.
I can hear alot of ambient.
Birds sing, wind howls.
It cheers me up somehow.

I'm just sitting here, bored.
Trying to sing on a bed.
Along with the birds and wind howls.
Being bored is not so bad at all.

I wanna play.

The gentle night breeze.
Leaves fall to ground.
Time perfectly freezes
As I get out of my bounds.

There's no limitation for me.
I can do anything I want.
To enjoy the most of this treachery.
And explore more into this land.

There's no stopping me
As I set myself free.
I can do what make me happy.
Even if it's just a dream, ironically.

There's nothing but jinxes.
Lots of whiners and stress.
There's nothing more than despair.
That comes to me, fair and square.

I don't see any reason in this realism
From literature for you to be so enthusiasm.
And so goes to sweetness and music.
All of these make me sick.

All people around see me as a joke.
I'm broke, broke and again, broke.
I don't see why we are bound
To keep our limits on the ground.

.45 ACP.
The bullet's velocity.
It speeds through the street
With just a single fleet.

7.62
The temperature drives through
Through the way the bullet flies
To where it can finally shine.

.44 magnum.
And the time comes.
The bullets hit their orders.
We finally meet each other.

There goes him again.
Just messing in his kitchen.
Messing with ingredients.
Giving me cake like he does to kitten.

He walks around the kitchen repeatedly.
What's he making in there, I'm curious.
It only takes him a tick tock, happily,
And there goes my cake again, nice and delicious.

And everyday, he just walks around in there,
With cakes and other things to make.
He's the person I'd use my cake to share.
Please don't stop giving me cakes.

I wanted to be a candle
To light up my dear's dreams.
But before I can even handle
I'm already melting at my seams.

There are times I can emit a dim light.
But sometimes I burn with fright.
I am uncontrollable, maybe.
Or a bit insecure and disposable.

The lights on me keep burning.
Until I melt into something.
But then if you freeze me,
I think you can save me...

A candy of music.
A series of sugary sounds.
Makes people feel bittersweet and sick.
But makes me no longer frowns.

With a little bite,
I can feel the melody
In every bit of my byte.
Oh, the melancholy.

The candy of music,
Brings the happiness to my ears.
And within the series of music,
I wish you could be here.

To listen and feel
How we can dance
And chill,
And glances.

A deck of cards.
It seems normal.
With a bit of shards
Shards of crystals.

A deck of cards.
Filled with mysteries.
Something good, something bad.
Nothing is always like what you see.

A deck of cards.
A series of surprises.
Like pie and custard.
Like candies and spice.

Grass grows, high sky.
Catching a butterfly.
Following it where it goes.
Going smooth with the flow.

Running and chasing.
Catching and smiling.
Chasing a butterfly.
With the embrace of the sunny sky.

Follow it where it goes.
Doesn't matter where it flows.
I'm more than just happy.
If the butterfly wants to play with me.

Cat meows
For it's owner.
What does it want to tell?
Understanding is even harder.

It keeps on meowing.
For it's owner.
I think it's annoying.
But somehow, that way, it's cuter.

It never stops meowing.
For it's own fun.
Maybe it's just needing
Some attention.

City at dusk.
Wind blowing dust.
I stand outside on the balcony.
Letting the wind hit me.

The clouds space from each other.
The sun is sinking down lower.
Streetlights are lighting up.
Pouring my tea in a cup.

City at dusk.
Enjoying this is a must.
And I know.
You're enjoying it too.

City goes to dusk.
People going home.
Changing their courses.
Deciding where they'll come.

Soon it will be evening.
Lights are going up.
On my balcony, waiting
With my little cocoa cup.

And then when the evening come
I rush to get my cute shoes for my feet.
And then, before I leave my home
Where shall we meet?

I've done something quite bad.
My study time was taken a toll.
So I had to clean up the trash
That is located all around the school...

When I was cleaning, I saw worms and snails.
They look so ugly, squishy and full of...sludge?
But I followed behind their trails
Honestly, they were quite cute!

Cleaning, cleaning, all works, so busy.
But I'll gladly take from my study time a toll.
To watch everything slowly move in front of me
Chores aren't so bad, after all.

...Stinky, ****** halls...

Cold hail
Along my trail.
Cold air
Along my hair.

It hasn't been so cold.
Temperature hasn't been so low.
Atmosphere hasn't been so chilly.
I haven't been so happy.

Cold dances
With my glance
A glance, cold as ice
With love and spice.

I am so confused.
Spinning in my head.
The poems, the words
The inspiration, it hurts.

Writing and erasing
I keep on scratching.
Until my paper sheet tears
Until I make my mind clear.

All these confusion in my head
It's making a patterns with fabric and thread.
The fabric of paper and thread of ink
To give my poem a shade of colorful pink.

Sneeze. Sneeze.
Sneezing in the breeze.
Sniffing my nose.
My hands freeze.

Cough. Cough.
The cold wind blows.
My whole body is shaking.
I seem more hollow.

Cough and sneeze.
Sickness with me.
I'm sick and tired.
So stay with me.

A little cupcake.
Like a little slider break.
It comes suddenly,
With laughs and giggles happily.

Sugar, spice.
Everything nice.
To cheer you up a little.
To pop you like a bubble.

Everything around me
Is as cute as they can be.
I don't mind if for you, it's ugly
It's only the way that you see.

Rice and Cupcake.
They don't even match.
But as I take.
They are still in one batch.

Rice is the main delicacy!
While cupcake is for dessert!
So delicious and healthy.
You can't desert!

Sometimes we are like cupcakes and rice.
We seem so opposite to each other.
But as long as we are nice.
Then we can live happily ever after.

Little dreams.
Fondling around your childish mind.
Like a piece of ice cream.
With happiness of all kind.

Dreams about candies,
About bugs and nature.
Dreams about the city,
With clouds, bliss and azure.

With all these thing to dream of
How can our lives become so vain?
With a little cuteness and a bunny hop.
I dream of rain.

Let's get drunk tonight.
When the darkness consumes the fair.
When everything is alright.
When coldness can be felt in the air.

There should be no worries for us.
So let's all just relax and play.
There's nothing wrong in the dust
That our attention should be paid.

Gather around the table, we should,
And get ourselves some drink.
Because of our carefree attitude
And our limitless spirit links.

Hic.
I am not drunk.
I am just slightly...sick...
I'm having a funk.

The world seems to have more color
Than the one I used to adore.
Well, I like this one more,
Let's enjoy this galore!

Then I walked into a water puddle.
I realized something reasonable.
And all the time inside this junk
I was being drunk!

Fried rice and cupcake.
With a little milkshake.
For a late night dinner.
Can't get any better.

Such delicious food.
Such silent mood.
In such a peaceful night.
Everything is alright.

Sitting here, enjoying...
Fresh air, I'm breathing...
I gaze upon the sky.
I think my friend is also enjoying the night.

I had a glass bottle.
With decorations like flowers and bubbles.
Suddenly it drops and shatters.
I cried, louder and louder.

I had a little pillow.
It was squishy and hollow.
One day, I tore it apart.
I couldn't do anything but be sad.

Bottles broken, pillows torn.
You can't undo what has been done.
But pillows can still be hugged, bottles can still be fixed.
And everything can be restarted.

Coldness fills the air.
I walk through the fair.
Checking all the shops,
Rolling, dancing non-stop.

Clothes and food.
Buy everything, everywhere I set foot.
I feel bad for overspending.
But it's a waste not spending.

One night out.
Singing out loud.
A happy mind under the light.
Oh, such wonderful night!

A slice of Pizza.
A piece of Pinata.
I sit down with a smile on me.
Eating it hungrily.

It tastes the sour of ketchup.
A little salt, and fats building up.
It blends into a mix of flavor.
Which is one that I favor.

Friendship is like a slice of pizza.
It's yummy and it's cute as a pinata.
With many tastes and sweetness.
You'll always be blessed.

Left out in the cold,
Frozen to death.
So shabby, yet so bold.

The sound of sword sheath.
Cutting through the atmosphere.
Cutting through my shed.

And they found me there.
Frozen and pathetic.
They brought me here.

So I can stop being sick.
And become a part
Of the new society's gimmick.

The garden of words,
Where I live and play.
Where my imagination works
And where my poems can play.

Show me how precious life is,
How my literature can improve,
How I can get myself in hypnosis
With love, poetry and nature.

The garden of words
Where my heart beats the hardest.
Where my imagination works
For the ones that I adore the best.

To make a poem better
Is a lot of hard work.
Hence I wander
In the garden of words.

I walk around, learning
There are always new things to learn.
As I walk, I keep pondering
About all the things I concern.

But I can't seem to have limitation
For my poem to work.
What truly is good for your creation
Is the garden of words in your heart.

The guitar strings
Rings.
My finger tips
Flips.

Taking notes
Of music notes.
Remembering the lessons
For my own reckons.

The guitar.
My future star.
As my fingers
Linger.

Happy and cherish.
Everyone is.
I feel like it.

I felt like it.

Happy and cherish.
Everyone is.
I'm not like it.

I haven't been.

Happy and cherish.
Everyone is.
What's about it?

I don't understand.

Happy and cherish.
Everyone is.
Especially when they look at me.

Funny.

And I think I broke the poem again.

The power that encourages me.
I **** and crush endlessly.
I don't have anywhere else to go
With my Inner Animal.

The blood pumps like Hydrogen flowing.
The pressure of Crystals falling.
I put on my mask of animosity.
Knock knock, death delivery.

I fall into the Endless Pit of killing.
With all the messages on my phone ringing.
I can hear they ask if the Horse is Stepping.
While the Released animal is stepping.

****, **** and **** on the Hotline.
Until the life indicator shows a Flatline.
And I go back to my Deep Cover and rest.
Wait for A New Morning to test.

Apples.
Sweet and red.
But not always available.
Still, the best.

Juicy, healthy.
Crispy and delicious.
I'm so hungry.
And the more I'm hungry, the more I'm curious.

Apples.
Sweet little fruit for your break time.
Not always available.
But at least it doesn't need to rhyme.

Going around my room.
Searching for every little gloom.
The hunger is vast.
I want my breakfast.

Exploring the house that I'm living.
Finding myself interested in everything.
The hunger is not so vast.
I still want my breakfast.

The adventure of breakfast and things.
They all keep me thinking.
As long as I'm still hungry.
I can't help my curiosity.

I feel my heart pumping slower.
As I slowly cry to my slumber.
Maybe I wasn't good enough.
I'm a bad person, I suppose.

The feeling in my heart.
I can only describe it as "hurt".
But it wasn't just anything ordinary.
That even my best friend hates me.

Enough is never enough.
Never soft or tough.
Yes, he was just a gecko at sense.
But he is also a living essence.

If there was a world without any contradictions.
If there was a world without bad impressions.
If there was a world where nothing is under tension.

But there wasn't.

Everything can be misunderstood.
Whether it isn't or is in likelihood.
It has been ruining childhood.

But it's the truth.

I've always been complaining
About how bad it has been.
Especially when I'm so bad at writing.

I don't want another misunderstanding.

I have no idea why.
But I make poems out of everything.
You just don't have to be shy.
And you can write about anything.

Just add a little spice
And put in some effort
Make it a little nice
You can always afford.

Now you need a pen.
To describe your words.
And show all your friends
How your poem works!

ax^2 + bx + c
A formula taking me nowhere
All these numbers, these units and deltas.
I'm not understanding.

2H2 + O2 to 2H2O
A formula helping none at all.
All elements I'd even have in my life.
I'm not understanding.

e=mc^2, p=mv
All the calculus that I cannot see.
I only want to find my own emotions and sanity.
And those I'm not understanding.

All this sine, cosine, tangent.
All this math, physics and chemistry.
Even the feelings of mine that are tangling.
I'm not understanding.

It hurts.
Even if it's just some flirts.
Even if it's just a poem.
It still feels like shattering frames.

I can't feel the same rhythm
From the fingers of my own mechanism.
Perhaps it's just difficulties?
Or it's just myself being consumed with anxiety?

Or maybe, it's just that I'm worried.
That I think my own color is blurried.
Guess I'll just have to wash my face.
And keep up with my pace.

Temperature is high.
It's scorching outside.
Yet I had to go to school.
Trying to keep myself cool.

It's so hot, the leaves are shivering.
It's so hot, even people are burning.
Yet I had to go school.
It's too hot to keep any cool.

I still have to study, although it's so hot.
My brain is burning, but fear not.
Because I know, deep in the sun pain.
Sooner or later, there will be a rain.

The cold wind blows.
The streetlight glows.
You hold my hand, keeping me warm.
I stood there, keeping you in my arm.

The stars shine bright tonight.
The moon's full circle is nice.
I gaze upon the sky.
While you shine bright in my eyes.

Just two of us, tonight.
Making sure everything is alright.
Love, warmth and happiness.
I only wished, time was endless.

Oh, my friend, so shy,
Like a little bird.
So afraid to fly.
Just hiding behind my skirt.

It's very simple.
Just give it a go.
Make it more acceptable
For your childish mind of yours.

The simple factors
To make a poem
Is to not worries at all
And just write without shame.

Keys.
As hard as it can be
I'm still playing my little piano.
Remember the rhythm as I go.

Pressing this and that.
The memory on the tip of my hat.
As I sit on my chair
Playing something that sounds fair.

A little music in life.
A little ocean you can dive.
To bring the spice to your core.
And to bring the emotions to the one you adore.

The leaf of early winter
Falls to the gentle wind movement.
Something happy, yet bitter
In every second of the leaf's enjoyment.

It wanders through the wind howls,
Without any purposes nor choices.
And every time I take a stroll,
I see the leaf, with it's little noise.

And our life is like a leaf.
We take a fall and endlessly fly like doves.
We'll just hope for the wind to lead,
Hopefully we'll find someone to love.