Quarter to midnight,
we rise to the highest peak.
Clothed in nothing but moonlight,
drunk as you fill me in.
Didn't want to rush,
you just had to push it in too deep,
All you did is touch,
Savoring the feel of your heartbeat--
No matter how far,
No matter how long,
I will be right here
writing you songs--
this is the way I love from a distance.
The world is unkind,
I'll be right here
holding you signs,
so you'll always find your way
back home to me.
With all of me,
I'll love you--
This is my oath to you.
It has been months since I last felt your warmth.
Knives aimed, thundered voices;
Feeble thoughts and shallow reasons;
Blinders on, deafened ears;
Fragile freedom on her knees.
Shame on your bloodied hands!
Shame on your hollow conscience!
This is where it begins--the depths of her despair;
In muffled breaths of dead air.
A sad day for press freedom in our country.
Your shoes are yours to fill,
and only yours to wear.
Your shoes are yours to change,
and only yours to possess.
Your shoes will take you
to the destination you so desire;
Because darling, your shoes
will never be the same as mine.
Follow your own path, wear your own shoes.
The future is uncertain
like a blank canvas,
And you are the painter
of your masterpiece.
Each stroke is important,
as each color is precious.
And your portrait is
the sum of your life's lessons.
Your lived experience is what makes you unique.
I gaze upon my windowpane
as the sun utters its goodbyes.
Mixed hues of blue, red, and orange,
grace the stillness of the summer sky.
I lived within these walls,
48 days and counting.
The light beckons, the heat calls
me out from my endless hiding.
The longing for the wind
and a greeting from my neighbor,
feels like fire in the harshest of winters.
But for now all I have is my window,
my paper and a pen--
giving me faith for a brighter tomorrow,
for this too, shall end.
In commemoration of my month and a half quarantine. The window is my only access to the outside world.
The concrete jungle
is a mixture of successes
and failed dreams,
And we have been sifting
through this place now
The lights are dazzling
but sometimes cold,
You're a kindred spirit--
warm, beautiful, and bold.
Please don't let
the concrete jungle
gobble up a flicker of you.
Burn through all the tribulations,
To all the working people in concrete jungles across the world--let us burn blue.