The skies trip,
As entire days sleep,
How to fulfill....
Such empty baggage?

Where are you?

Erase these moments,
Until the dust is gone....
But your scratches remain,
On my honour.

I remember these roads,
But not where they lead.
This walk with no purpose wont end.
The echoes still call my name,
*The echoes still call my name.

Can you hear me?
I call,
Everyday.
To you, to him, to them.
Can you hear me?
I sit here,
Everyday.
I don't have much to say.
But, will you listen,
Anyway?
You can walk away,
They always walk away.
No one ever stays.
But,
You could.
Yes, we could talk,
Yes, us.

Will you stay?

Wait!
Don't go away!
Wait.
Don't go away.

Come tomorrow.
I sit here,
Everyday.
You can listen,
To what I have to say.
I call,
Everyday.

*Can you hear me?

This is a happy poem,
About happy children,
And happy mothers,
Who dont get drunk.
And happy fathers,
Who dont leave home.
This is a happy poem,
About happy songs,
Which arent about heartbreaks.
And happy stories,
Which arent about death.
This is happy poem,
About happy headlines,
Which dont read '****'.
And happy people,
Who buried themselves,
Yesterday.

They bled black, and soon everybody was infected with revolution.