Yes, I am no poet
In fact, my 'pieces' are pretentious
but this is my dear diary
where i relieve my fright tonight
of the lonely awakening of tomorrow morning.

So I choose to live in the shadows of the quiet night
and dream sweet dreams in the busy daylight
where nobody is my judge
where nobody is my lord
where nobody is my god.

Clock, you hear yourself ticking into a thrice morning cry?
Be ashamed.
Be very ashamed.
Aren't you shameless for my heartbeat mimicry?


Clock, do you see yourself in the mirror?
Be embarrassed.
Be very embarrassed.
Aren't you embarrassed at the dawn of this quarter-faced horror?


Clock, do you need to tingle my body?
Be abashed.
Be very abashed.
Aren't you abashed for keeping conscience awake in my body?


Clock, did you need to greet the morning thrice?
Be disconcerted.
Be very disconcerted.
Aren't you disconcerted to be lying not once, not twice, but thrice?


Yes, Clock. You.
Stop pointing your finger in a second
Stop depending on opinions in second
Stop and stand still
    Face where your seconds are due.

She did not choose to place her life in jeopardy;
She was never decreed as property
She was never decreed as liability
She never gave up her liberty
She did not give up her ability...
But
She will sacrifice much opportunity
and perhaps*
*She will sacrifice her virginity.

This day someone lost a parent--
This is a day I often thought
This is a day I've always imagined
This day I will forever be unprepared for
This day I hope will never come for me
Hence, Dear Father in heaven...
"Please do not realise this day for me."