I just want someone to laugh with
Not laugh at
I just want someone to pat me.
I just want someone to chit and chat.
Someone to be with.

But who will it be?
Who will come to me
When all has left?
Who will make me happy
When all treats me like a pet?

Will anyone ever find me?
In this cold and lonely shed
Of fluff and filler?
So that I can be happy
Forever after...?

Water splashes.
Wind dashes.
Leaves dancing.
I'm stargazing.

Stars flashing.
Birds sleeping.
Quiet night.
Quite alright.

Stars shine bright.
Quiet night.
I'm stargazing.
You're watching.

Sleepless
Tired
Exhausted.

Want more sleep.
Want more rest.
Want more relaxation.

Still work to do
Still jobs to do
Still things to do.

Still breathing and living
And yes, still having fun.

I've been crying.
Like a child I am.
Since 9 AM.

I shouldn't be.

I'm just sitting.
Sobbing all over.
While the rain covers.

What should I be?

But I know.
After the rain.
Sun shines again.

A ball of sunshine.

Sushi.
Fresh and slushy.
Small, little seaweed roll.
Around a piece of tuna, that's all.

It may seem pretty small.
But that's just the detail we know.
What you didn't expect
Is how the nutrition affects.

Humans are like sushi's.
Some seem useless and pitiful, really.
But they have inner power.
To make you shut all your laughter.

The wind blows gently.
The leaves fall slowly.
Why don't you sit here
And have a little tea?

Sips your cup, and enjoy
Nature's small little toy.
With all the winds and leaves
Sliding against our sleeves.

Let's just sit back and relax.
As our peaceful tea time lasts.
And wish such lovely moments
Never ends until the sky turns to crescent.

Life was tasteless
Without interests.
No tragedies, no comets,
Nothing to regret.
But then everything changed.

And everything changed.
Nightmares and depression.
Rainclouds of suicide and mental conditions.
Life would be so much more happy.
If we just live normally.
Thank you for Doki Doki.

There was once a lady that sell spring rolls.
I used to go there and eat since I was 2.
Her spring rolls were once what I'd call
A masterpiece of delicacy, for true.

Everyday, when my big brother gets out of his school,
Is when my papa brings me to her stall.
We always stopped and eat some of her spring rolls.
And I always ate them all.

But it's been one year, until now.
I haven't got time to visit her stall.
Busy works, poems and studies now
Always seem to take a place in my hall.

And I just went out to get her spring rolls.
I thought after so long, she'd forget me.
But then she greets me, with a real call:
"Little feller has grown this much already?"

There's no time!
Not enough for my poem.
Not enough to make anything rhymes.
Not enough for my requiem.

There's no time.
The birds hurriedly fly home.
The sky darkens it's chime.
Humans go back home in the norm.

There's never enough time
To do anything.
To even write a poem.
Or to meet you, out of everything.

Time never stops
Even if it's your bedtime.
As your heart flops,
It won't stop the rhyme.

Time keeps on going
No matter how much more you need.
It keeps on rolling.
So better pack up and kneed.

Times won't stop for you.
But doesn't mean you should not catch up.
So get your shoes,
And fill up your cup.

It's time for bed.
Going to sleep.
With blue and red.
While counting sheep.

It's time for bed.
No more time to play.
Get in your shed.
And sleep, after pray.

It's time for bed.
Stop eating your ice cream.
You can still eat it
Inside your dream.

Poems are your life,
Put into words and rhyme.
Just take your time,
And enjoy the dime.

Like a bird flies for the first time.
You just need to rhyme.
And all that color of lime
Will glow through your chime.

Get a ladder and climb
Up to your dreams of rhyme.
So don't just **** your time.
And uhh...I'm out of words to rhyme.

Tip toe.
Fingers on the go.
Moving on a piano.
Softly like snow.

The music fills my room.
Like a fairy in a shroom.
Little songs, little hum.
Flute, guitar, kits and drums.

A little essence, with a little piano.
With their fingers on the go.
With movements soft as snow.
Tip toe...

A taste of defeat.
An entry to success.
Failure is a treat
For all your process.

You may fail exercise
So you can finish the test.
You must be precise
On your experiments and stress.

There's nothing in this world
That is impossible.
You just need to try harder
And make your failure admirable.

Note of a piano
Noises from an instrument
Noises that I know
Unfamiliar to my brain.

A line of music
Noises from a song
Noises that I picked
Never remember anything long.

A piece of poetry
Words from literature.
Words that I wrote
And I'm not even sure.

Staring blankly
At the wall.
Just smiling happily.
Not moving at all.

"She's thinking, maybe."
"Or she's just blind."
"No, she's crazy."
Criticism of all kind.

We do what normal people don't.
And they think we are sick.
But the part they were wrong
What makes us sick makes us unique.

The world was colorless
Meaningless and filled with boredness.
I wander without a route
Until one day, I meet you.

Playing with you is a different experience.
It's like taking a pill of happiness.
I see nothing, but my beautiful dear.
Feeling nothing but giggles as I get near.

The ecstasy to my boring life.
The joy pill that I love all night.
The world was colorless forevermore.
But in the colorless, there are still colors.

Five out of ten.
Cry in my tent.
No shoulders.
No pen.

No poem whatsoever.
The night goes darker.
I sit here, giving up.
All that I saved up.

As a grand kingdom never falls,
Steady against the wind, we shall.
Because for without struggles.
Our bonds are disabled.

The only time when the bullet pings
Is when it lost it's inner filling.
The only time when I flash a smile
Is when my soul has gone for a mile.

Weapons don't have soul.
I think I don't have one to own.
I speak with happiness
To cover the emptiness.

Just like a weapon, I was built
To bear all stress, grips and guilt.
So I keep on smiling,
With such sorrow under hiding.

The life form in my chest.
Pounding with more and more stress.
There's nothing comparable
To my little cynical.

My face is always beet red
Whenever I get in bed.
Especially when he looks at me
And then give a pat, softly.

His hands, body, skin,
Turns me on with a grin.
And now he just kissed my forehead.
I think I'm melting to my death.

I'm sitting, thighs shaking.
A cupcake is what I'm waiting.
I'm so hungry for these sweetie.
I don't care about me.

I don't care about coughing.
Or even my hair scrambling.
All I want right at this moment.
Is a cupcake with a bit of mint.

I'm just sitting here, waiting for my cupcake.
I can feel my entire body shakes.
But I still sit here, wait for my delicacy.
Because I know, I am not lonely.

Water.
Mixture of air.
Tasteless and not even colder.
But seems fair.

Water.
Cools you down from anger.
Helps you from getting any thirstier.
Control yourself longer.

Water.
Something that suddenly becomes your best friend.
Makes your life a little bit cooler.
And gives you even more friends.

I was just sitting with my cat,
Spacing out blankly.
And then a person came up and ask
"What are poems to you?" suddenly.

Well, for me
Poems are more than just words.
They are more remarkable than we see.
They are ink, papers and hard work.

Poems are made to spice up life.
To make the small world become bigger.
Poems are also a way to describe
How your emotions bitter.

There are so many ways
To describe what poems had gone through.
And at the end, I will say
"What are poems to you?"

I grabbed my pen and walk outside.
Observing everything around my sides.
Getting my paper and ink.
Trying to draw about what I can think.

A bird, the leaves,
A little pen, hands around my sleeves.
Thinking about what I can draw.
Making it smooth and raw.

A little project that leads me outdoors.
Trying to find what I can draw.
I wander around, spinning my pen.
Meeting all my nature friends.

What if one day
Everything stops
The time runs out
From bottom to top?

The birds stop singing.
The trees stop growing.
The world stops rotating.
The rain stops coming.

Then the sun stops shining.
And moon stops breathing.
And the rivers stop the streams.
And I stop making poems.

"Oh darling, what is love, at least for you?"
"Oh honey, love is what I can't understand too.
It's filled with excitement, passion and sweetness.
The feeling that makes you feel blessed."

"Oh honey, what is love, in your thoughts?"
"Oh darling, it's something I can't understand enough.
It's candy, hugs, pats and anything that's sweet.
For someone like me, it's a party full of treats!"

"Oh darling, what if there was no love,
Where would you be, what would you do?"
"Oh honey, if there was no love,
I wouldn't be here, talking to you."

What should I write about today?
My brain is going inside a maze.
A spine-chilling one, or a sweet one?
I can't decide, my mind is gone.

I keep on asking myself.
Reading every books on the shelf.
Trying to find one answer for the haze.
"What should I write about today?"

My curiosity keeps going.
I don't even care what I'm doing.
All I wanna know at this moment.
Is how do I write a poem, with a bit of mint?

Sweet, sweet cupcake.
Pouring the white over the black.
Cherish me as I grab my pen.
Making a poem inside my tent.

Sky, clouds, grass, trees.
Ice cream, cupcakes, candies.
So much inspiration.
Yet so little attractions.

I crawl with my book as I ponder.
I bite my pen as I wonder.
My mind is inside a little maze.
What should I write about today?

Where are the people when I needed?
Where are the inspiration when I pleaded?
Where are the curiosity when I questioned?

Where is the empathy when I begged?
Where are the reasons to live, when one lived?
Where are the times, we hugged?

Where are the wonders I pondered?
Where are the answers when I'm confused?
Where are you, when I bled?

Scratching my own head.
Throwing away all my papers.
Pushing out all my pencil's lead.
Trying to see how I can write better.

Ahh, the ideas give confusion.
Writing poems is like a battle.
With you against your own inspiration.
See how your poem can settle.

And until one point, after awhile.
You write your idea on another paper
Like having a mania in poetic style.
A unique poem, unlike others.

Candy, Lollipop and Apples.
Everything is always available.
Everything is sweet.
Just like your kiss.

A little campfire.
A little bit of stars in sight.
Everything is shiny.
All brings thoughts of you to me.

Everything you do.
It cheers me up too.
You don't have to fear.
I'll always be there.

Flashy lights.
You and I.
Walking through the pathway.
Decided to stay.

Beeping noise.
Doors closed.
We got bored.
Laying close to each other on the bed.

Only tonight.
Only you and I.
With lights and doors closed.
Happy tears shed.

Gold and silvers.
Literature.
Everything is valuable.
Yet my brain seems disabled.

Poems and stories.
A lot of tries.
Everything is fancy.
You just need to have some energy.

Everything is difficult.
But not doing anything is a guilt.
So however impossible it is
You can do this.

It was a cold, cold winter.
It's so cold it hurts.
Until we met each other.
Since then, you lit a bonfire in my heart.

When the world is cold to me.
Your fire embrace the warmth.
When the world is dark on me.
You light up like a candle of candy.

So many times we hold our hands.
You bring warmth and happiness to my life.
So many times, we also fight, eyes blank.
Times like that, my heart turns back to ice.

The fire that changed me.
The fire that has enlightened my path.
You're like a missing puzzle piece.
That I will always admire since the past.