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 Sep 2014 Jonathan Lau
ln
Yesterday a question got me thinking
I never got an answer, I'm hoping I will by the end of this poem


" How do you explain color to a blind man "
How do you explain how red and blue makes purple?
How do you explain how red and yellow makes orange?
How do you explain that the sky is of different shades of turquoise, blue, purple, red, depending on it's mood?
How do you explain the clarity of the clouds on a hot day?
How do you explain the greyness on the clouds, on a gloomy Sunday?
How do you explain the transparent color of the raindrops?
How do you explain the glossy finish on the sea water?
How do you explain the greenness of a forest?
Or the deep red blood that flows in your veins?
How do you do it, to a person who sees nothing, but black;
In a world so cruel?


" How do you explain sound to a deaf man"
How will I explain the beauty of a piano piece?
How will I explain the serenity of the da capo in a violin piece?
How will I explain the stress releasing qualities of drums being slammed?
How will I explain the tears of a newborn baby?
How will I explain the laughter of a newly married woman?
How will I explain the swish of the droplets colliding like bullets on the surface of a waterfall?
How will I explain the glass-like water cascading down the lake?
How will I explain all this, to a man;
Who lives in utter silence.


Maybe that is why I read,
*Do not mock a pain you have not endured.
I still never got the answer.
 Aug 2014 Jonathan Lau
pam
You told me you love me.
You told me im beautiful
You told me im almost perfect.
You told me im the most beautiful girl you've ever met
You told me im hot
You told me im important
You told me you cared
You told me you will always be there.
I just smiled.
You told me you love my smile
You said you love everything about me.
But then you wondered.

'Why doesnt she believe me.'

You dont see the things that I see in the mirror, boy.
You dont see the pimples.
You dont see the dark circles
You dont see my big stomach
You dont see the scars in my thighs
You dont know what I think about myself.

Now, you know the reason.
- PD

— The End —