I woke up
in the midst of eight
sunlit is staring at me
through my windows
decisions are waiting.

Down below
people are crumbling
life is breathing.

Today is a fresh start
like models on runway
in this ***** street
fierce is indeed.

A barrier in front of me
perfectly encapsulating
energies within reach.

I guess angels aren't real
because past is hard to conceal
A barrier in front of me
like here to protect
from dirt and impurities
that barrier is for today.

It follows me everyday
like a stray animal
until it's weakened
and deteriorated
that barrier left me
now it's broken
like shards of glass
He'd been exhausted
from all I've done.

I guess this is all fantasy
like waiting for fairies
Now that I'm fatal
from dirt and impurities
I guess barriers aren't real
that barrier is within me.

A sketchpad on your lap
then lines became alive
There are smudges on the edges
and coals on eraser.

It's very important
to keep eyes into the wild
to smell that juicy lemon
and to taste in everyone's mouth.

But the time came..

When it's hard to persist
that seeing everyone's mouth
asking what's beyond
You try to give colors
but nothing seems profound
You try to give emotions
but everyone looks numb.

You keep asking
if the contrast are right
or the colors are just dumb
are my feet left untracked?

I try to click on what's beyond
but thirty six decisions are all done
I unwind to hear the relaxing purr
slowly like a sleeping cat
I was staggering on what I've done
but your smile is all I had
I gave the toy to put on scan
lips biting on the waiting lounge.

When the time run's out
you gave the best moments I want
beautiful grains are all I've got
hues of landscapes are moving
flares on portraits are smiling
like holograms in your eyes.

My thirty six moments are in hand
all focused on ravished smiles I want
which makes me thankful to the staff.

I wish I can go back in time
seeing your laugh that can't deny
That thirty six moments are all gone
but you gave the smile I've never done.

Between flares and grains
or even negatives in shadows
our stories will never come undone
it will continue like a vagabond
it's not perfect
like we saw in magazines
but we need to keep moving
just like a roll of film.

I was stunned by her laugh
down beneath the chair,
her whisker's full of dust .
it's alright is she a child?

Weaned by a human hand
lost by her mother's hand
I wonder now,
if down beneath the chair
is a sleeping little girl.

I miss my little child
is she alright under the sun?
I wonder if she's dreaming now
the dream of my human hand.