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Cool Poet-H Aug 2010
Where I go,
I am poisoned,
Where I stay,
I’m chased away,
Where I live,
I am jailed,
Where I talk,
No words I utter, but I cry,
No one care about me,
Still I will never fall on their knee,

I stand alone,
But still my hopes aren’t gone,
May god bring light for me,
I know who is he,
No matter its true or lie,
It’s the education that I rely
That will never make ma future dry,
I still got to cry,
*** of education that we cannot buy,
It’s the age which matters
It’s the time that glitters,
But it’s the life that flutters

Where I go,
I Die,
Where I stay,
I die,
Where I live,
I die,
Where I talk,
No words I can utter, but I cry,

I still stand alone,
Every day and night I live with moan,
My heart was strong,
But how long?
1 n half decade
It was all an arcade

At-least let me feel happy by now,
I remember the quote which mostly I love,
“Failure is not fed,
and success is not said”,
I cry cry cry, never die,
Let me see whether one day can I fly,
Nah! I won’t die,
I got to find a way to fly,
Oh God!! Isn’t it ******
To find me a path to be happy.
It is you who, I believe the most,
And I hope you’ll save me from the ghost.
Please, Make me live happily,
Please, Make me live happily.
Copyright - Cool Poet-H
Cool Poet-H Aug 2010
Facebook is a social network,
Where you find people with no work.
Knowledge and education only by hard work,
Thus will own you a company at Turk.

Facebook wastes your precious time,
Which you would taste in your future as lime.
You never open your English, Maths and Science book,
But you frequently access facebook.

You always say;
That you write the essay,
As a team work,
At the social network.

There’s no one to take any measure,
So you log on to facebook at your leisure,
And find some pleasure,
But not a treasure.

It’s bitter;
To write a letter;
Asking for shelter
So find your own track to glitter.

You aren’t a creature,
You need a bright future.
Listen to lecture,
And make up your own architecture.

Which is better?
You being the black hatter,
By going around the world which would never matter;
Or make the world come to your setter!!!

It’s up to you to select the correct surge,
That would emerge.
It is your future;
So get into the right juncture.
Copyright - Cool Poet-H

This was a poem which I wrote last year, an old one I had posted it in a different Sri Lankan forum before, I just thought if share it over here too.
Cool Poet-H Oct 2012
From each and every breath,
I’m counting days for my death.
I am the most hated boy
And the person who you never annoy

Every smile I make
Is always fake
I know I can’t shut and sit,
And I’m not the perfect fit

Life is miserable and long
But my pains and sorrows are strong
I may not be the best
Please give my soul a rest
Just wrote up what is/was in my mind in few minutes.
Cool Poet-H Aug 2010
Nothing goes right,
Nothing goes right,
What am I to do?
What am I to do?
I have no clue,
Seated my head laid on table,
It’s totally horrible,
What am I to do?
What am I to do?
I'm forgotten by every one
But not you,
But not you,
Hardly have I survived,
Should I deprive?
One heart, one taught,
Every day, I'm getting weaker,
Is it because of my possession?
I get threaten always,
Never have I succeeded,
Is that all what I need.
Is something wrong with my attitude?
Whatever it is, one heart, one thought,
I have had enough of my school.
I never played the fool.
But still, I am hatred
I never had friends,
But few,
About me they knew,
I now begin to hate my home,
Will this be a life storm?
Or should I end my little life,
Before it is ended by others,
And my body split as feathers.
Copy right - Cool Poet-H
Cool Poet-H Aug 2010
Romilda was an old lady,
She had no small baby,
So she petted her sisters daughter,
Who only drank milk but not water,
Little baby had a nice name which was Angelina Geolly
But her life was a worry,
She never went for the studio,
Never had Romeo,
She was brought up at a village,
But had a wide knowledge,
Her old aunt was always frank,
But Angelina Geolly use to prank,
One morning Angelina knocked her head on the wall,
And started dialing a call,
It was to none other than the fire brigade,
Hello, Come asap for our gate, Fire! Fear! Fire!
After an hour they reached in,
It was all about a recycle bin
Angeline had only meant, fire at her aunts cooker,
But they responded you little sucker!
The poor Aunt Matilda had to pay,
For their visit all the way
But still the house wasn’t grey!
Some people, few people started to blame Angelina Geolly!
She ran into her trolley,
And Angelina Cried Cried Cried,
But later she was Fried Fried Fried
Copyright - Cool Poet-H

I could remember, I read something like this, can't remember where had I read, So thought of writing one.

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