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Peter Simon Mar 2015
It was one of those days,
When you'd lay on the couch
With the tv on

Watching basketball games
And football match
Or anything that's on

Maybe it's a day you'd enjoy
Lying on your stomach on the bed
With a good book

By your side, sitting, a stuffed toy
And a world existing only in your head
Everyone would dare look

Or it could also be a day
To go out and try to have fun,
Have a walk on the park

Without thinking it might be your last day
Last time you'd see the sun
The last beat of your heart
Peter Simon Apr 2015
My feelings are like squirrels who hibernated in my heart. No matter how much I wanna keep them, I know I can't; eventually, they'll go out because it'll never be winter forever...
Peter Simon Nov 2014
In a straight line I walk,
A lot of work, without talk
Under leaves and over rocks
Heavy lifts to keep our stocks

The Queen has ordered this
Everything she wants, we can't miss
Now, I regret I've followed her wish
'Cause I've risked my life with this

The enormous creature's over our heads
Makes me wanna break our thread
Its gigantic limb slowly lands
And the last thing I could do is wave my hands...
Peter Simon Nov 2014
It has always seemed forever
That I could ever hold you closer
The reality that always embraces me,
I will never get why exactly

Your wisps as black as ebony,
Your lips as red as cherry;
Your eyes as blue as the sea,
Your skin that seemed so snowy

If only I could caress you,
In my arms I’ll surround you;
I know your body’s not that feeble,
But please, never eat that apple

For it surely will ruin my dream,
Dream of having you as my Queen;
Of course, there’s only you who could satisfy,
The thirst that in heaven, I could fly

You, M’lady, could never be replaced
‘Till I die and my body be laid
But still, you did what I asked you to never do
Now my life drained out of color, of hue…

It will always seem forever
That I’ll never ever hold you closer
The reality will eternally restrain me,
My heart will, for all of time, be lonely
Peter Simon Jan 2015
You're whispering way too loud,
They might hear;

Like my heart beating too loud,
You might hear
Peter Simon Dec 2014
You know how you and a butterfly similar?
You both have very beautiful wings.
You are both beautiful but you don't see it.

You know how to make a difference?
Try not being a butterfly and see your beauty,
Unless you wanna see yourself like a moth forever.
Peter Simon Feb 2015
And it's not only our world,
That'll shatter in the end,
But the whole *universe...
Peter Simon Jun 2015
There is a city inside my body
With cars making their way through my veins
People are on rush like they’re insane

My organs make up the industries
And the people are the workers
They work twenty-four/seven, tirelessly

Waiting for the food
Which they make into goods
And supply to all the smaller towns

But in my body,
The day never comes
So they’re accustomed to night-time

And all the routes and all the buildings,
And all the cars with their honking
Even lampposts and payphones

All the houses’ windows
Maybe even TVs and radios
Together, they make their own city lights
Peter Simon Nov 2014
In an infinite stretch of nothingness,
I have doubted my own existence
A void where mythical beings subsists,
Would an addition of mortals suffice?

What is out there beyond
Passing the boundaries of heavens?
Would it be another me,
Or would it be another expanse?

A sheer of grief, long lived inside me
For seeing my purpose, I have renounced hope
It wouldn’t be painless, vast universe have told me
Life will be impossibly easy, I just need to cope

Oblivion is for the brave hearts
Though I tried to assimilate,
It would only seem I exaggerate
The cosmos’s an abyss, would never feel at ease

Ego beats me for eternity
No matter how Adam tries to tell,
The explanations would never tally
Deepest in him, conflicts will always dwell
Peter Simon Jan 2015
chick·en* /ˈCHikən/ • adj.* 1. 'guess I can't always be tough. 2. sometimes I have to hide in the shadows of misery.
Peter Simon Mar 2015
I crack an egg over the pan,
And drizzle it with salt

The oil seethe with anger,
As the sides of the egg turns brown

I push a spatula between the egg and the pan,
Then I slowly lift it and transfer it to a plate

The yolk wiggles in a funny motion
A whiff reaches my nose and it lingers for a while
The last one joins the other plates on the table.
Peter Simon Nov 2014
I wanna say I love you but it means falling, and I'm afraid of heights.
Peter Simon Nov 2014
It was raining really hard,
I’m standing under an empty shed
And the sky wasn’t starred,
Seems like all the lights were dead

You came under the umbrella,
With your face neither happy nor sad
I looked up hoping to see the Capella,
But still the sky seemed mad

Slowly, I glanced at you,
I caught you staring at me
Then the wind hardly blew,
The freezing rain fell free

Suddenly, the shower stopped
You smiled, I blushed
Overwhelmed, my gaze dropped,
And everything around hushed

Then lights started flickering,
I thought they were the stars
But no, they weren’t shimmering,
The fireflies were ours
Peter Simon Mar 2015
It was raining really hard,
I’m standing under an empty shed
And the sky wasn’t starred,
Seemed like all the lights were dead

You came under the umbrella,
With your face neither happy nor sad
I looked up hoping to see the Capella,
But still the sky seemed mad

Slowly, I glanced at you,
I caught you staring at me
Then the wind hardly blew,
The freezing rain fell free

Suddenly, the shower stopped
You smiled, I blushed
Overwhelmed, my gaze dropped,
And everything around hushed

Then lights started flickering,
I thought they were the stars
But no, they weren’t shimmering,
The fireflies were ours
© Peter Simon
Peter Simon Nov 2014
With you, I’m complete. With you, I’m alive. I might be stuttering, but I like the feeling. The feeling of having those butterflies flapping their wings inside my stomach. It just feels heaven. And when I say heaven, it seems I could live eternally. Happiness.
Peter Simon Feb 2015
Here's to me.
Here's to keeping up all night reading a good book.
To doodling your professor's face in classes.
To waking up late on weekdays.
To getting all tired after a volleyball game.
To listening to piano music when it's raining.
To getting your shoes all soaked up...when it's raining.
To crying...when it's raining.
To watching fireflies at night.
To listening to night.
To watching the sunset while being nostalgic.
To singing out of tune in the bathroom.
To wasting some precious time while on the toilet bowl just thinking.
To eating too much when you know you shouldn't.
To painting while being in just your underwear.
To turning your headphones to the highest volume when your mom's shouting from the kitchen.
To eating midnight snacks 3 times every night.
To crying over a good movie.
To hating yourself because of wanting something you know you can't get.
To loving yourself because you know you're still you no matter how much tears you've wasted.
To spending all your money for food and books and  bookmarks and pencils and pens and paints and paintbrushes
To going out with friends everyday or night.
To not wanting to go home because you've got so much more to talk about.
To thinking how much you hate thinking about dying.
To hating Peter Pan because you know he never gets old.
To hating Wendy because she chose to leave Neverland.
To trying to get over the fear of death.
To hoping you'll never grow old and die.
To dying right now...
Peter Simon Feb 2015
I­ guess
I was
I know
I was
I won't
Be wrong
Peter Simon Aug 2015
My clock heart is ticking fast
I inhaled pollen,
Breathed petals

My wooden skin's starting to rust
I ate rubber,
Spitted metals

Now my eyes are bleeding dust
I kissed fire,
Chewed its smoke

I don't how long I'd last
My bones shatter;
How would I dance?
Peter Simon Feb 2015
You could’ve tasted like heaven
How would I know,
I’m going to hell?

I’m quite sure my hands would love to crawl,
Over your soft skin
I’m quite sure I would love to sniff,
Your silky long hair
I’m quite sure my arms would love to wrap,
Itself around your body

By the burning lamp,
I’m taking advantage over you, sweat running;
You, moaning, knowing nobody would hear
Piercing your nails at my back, with rage and fear

Your clothes torn to pieces,
Caused by resisting me
Your body tattooed with bruises,
Caused by my too-firm grip
Your addictive breath
That goes through my throat and lungs

You could’ve tasted like heaven
How would I know,
I’m going to hell?
This is the English version of my Filipino Poem "Paano ko Malalaman?":
Peter Simon Feb 2015
I am
alone. But
not alone-
I have my family,
I have my friends. What
I mea    nt is that I am   alone.
That   sometimes, I won   der
If any    one ever cared    about
me. If    they ever thought  of  me.
Has      he eaten yet? Has he      got-
ten      some sleep yet? Is any   one
with    him? Does he want to    talk
about som     ething? Is
he alright? Is   he happy?
Deep insi     de me, I'm
hoping th    at at least,
somone th    inks that
way. All I   am saying,
is I need s     omeone.
Maybe,         I need

**Y O U
Peter Simon Dec 2014
If the rain would never end,
Then I want to have my shoes all soaked up

If rainbows were not to appear,
Then I want to have the best memories I could ever have

If the coffee is not warm enough,
Then I'll stay on the hearth rug 'til warmth comes

If all those memories won't come back,
Then I'll be in the depths of nothingness

Peter Simon Apr 2015
I have always remembered how you danced in my dreams.
The way you interlocked your fingers with mine.
When you kissed me no matter where we were.
And when you poked me at my back and smiled.

I have always remembered that all of those are only in my dreams.
That it's not meant to happen in real life.

That you’ll never hold my hand unless we high-five.
That when you kiss me on my cheek, it’s on a dare.
And when you poke me at my back you just need to tell me something.

I have always remembered how you make the stars lose their light.
The way you smile and I melt.
How you keep me on waking up every morning.
How your face shines among the rest of the crowd.

I have always remembered that all of those I have to keep to myself.
‘Cause you’ll only dance for me…
In my dreams…
Peter Simon Jan 2015
Then I came to the realization
That I wasn’t really alive
Because I haven't felt how is it
To be *dead
Peter Simon Jun 2018
If once in your life you come across a beautiful flower,

Don't pick it up,

It'll die.

At first, the flower might dance in the wind;

Happy, with its face beaming brightly.

It might even say, "I'm so glad you plucked me from that boring bush."

You take the flower home,

Learn its name.

You do all sorts of things together;

And you ask yourself how on earth you even lived,

Without this flower to liven you up;

How did you even manage to push through,

Devoid of a companion to boost you up.

You suddenly feel so light like floating, you wonder why.

Then, the flower makes you realize,

How sometimes, emptiness can be heavy too.

And that you’ve bottled too much emptiness for so long now.

But you picked the flower.

One at a time, its petals would slowly fall

“When you pick a beautiful flower, it dies.”

Once you realize this,It's too late.

The flower might survive a couple more days,

If you place it in water;

But this won't stop the unavoidable.

It won’t save it;

It won't prevent it from succumbing to its painful death.

You’ll place it gently on the ground.

Tell it you’re sorry over and over again.

But, at this time, it’s had enough of your *******.

It has gotten tired of hearing how sorry you are all the time.

It’ll tell you how lazy you are,

Because all you do is stay inside your ******* cave.

It’ll tell you how you are never contented,

You say, the flower takes the stress away.

But here you are, still stressed with ******* life.

It’ll tell you you’re too weak,

Because you can’t lift yourself up with all this hate behind you;

You always fall on your knees and learned to walk with them instead.

The flower will tell you that all you did was hurt it.

From the moment you cut it from its stem,

To plucking the unwanted leaves it had.

It’ll tell you how drained it became when you snatched it,

That it can no longer smile like it used to,

And that you should carry the emptiness again;

This time, all by yourself.

The flower withers.

So if once in your life you come across a beautiful flower,

Don’t **** it.
© Peter Simon
Peter Simon Nov 2014
I’m lying steady on my bed,
Voices kept knocking in my head;
Gently, the breeze tickles my pores
And my eyes wouldn’t even close

An enormous fear bothers me
Anxious of something ordinary;
I know, myself could never vary

“My black shiny strands will turn grey,

My smoothly splendid cover will be wrinkled,

My loud but sweet squeaks will slowly fade,

Then salty water rolls on my cheeks,
Until it gradually kisses my lips
Every little thing disappears,
Even the playful mind that speaks
Peter Simon Jun 2015
He promised Mama he would come back,
Before he left, three days after I was born
Now, still no sign of him, and I’m 18
But I will be here; I’ll keep waiting

No matter how long…
No matter where you are…
No matter what happens…

I don’t care if he already has a wife
Yes, it’ll be fine
I don’t care if he had children with her
Yes, I don’t mind

It’s him I want,
I won’t get mad
I would hug him tight;
Tightest of the hugs I’ve ever given to anybody else

I will wait, I promise
I just hope it won’t take forever
I will wait, because I promised I would
And I will wait, because
He promised Mama he would come back
© Peter Simon
Peter Simon Feb 2015
He promised Mama he would come back,
Before he left, three days after I was born
Now, still no sign of him, and I’m 18
But I will be here; I’ll keep waiting

No matter how long…
No matter where you are…
No matter what happens…

I don’t care if he already has a wife
Yes, it’ll be fine
I don’t care if he had children with her
Yes, I don’t mind

It’s him I want,
I won’t get mad
I would hug him tight;
Tightest of the hugs I’ve ever given to anybody else

I will wait, I promise
I just hope it won’t take forever
I will wait, because I promised I would
And I will wait, because
He promised Mama he would come back
© Daniel Grey
Peter Simon Nov 2015
I know this isn’t like the movies...
But I miss you, Baby. And this is not the kind of missing that I can get over with after a few days. This is the one kind that will not go away until I see you again.
My feet are aching to get to wherever you are. And my mind’s wanting to drag my body to whatever place you might be. But I know I can’t do that; at least not for now.
That’s why I am resorting to whatever possible things I can do so I can feel close to you. But what remains is reading our past messages, staring at your number in my phone book and wandering through your Facebook account. That, and getting lost while I gaze at my cell phone’s wallpaper that features your face.
I miss you so much, Baby. I wish you’d be mine because you know I will always be yours. I wish I could hug you whenever I want to; wish I could kiss you wherever I want to; wish I could talk to you all day and we wouldn’t run out of topics; wish we’d never hang up when we talk over the phone; wish you think I’ll be perfect for you even though I know in myself that I am not. Are these things even possible? I wish.
Baby, do you know that I miss you so much I won’t be able to explain how much? I wish you’d be mine. I hate it when they stare at you.
That’s why I never tell about you to people—even my own friends—I avoid them seeing my phone’s wallpaper. Because I know I’ll hate it when they start to ask about you. And I don’t want them to. I don’t want it because I know they’ll get a liking of you. What if they meet you, and they start talking to you saying I told you to them. And slowly you’d like them too; even better than me. Yes you might call me selfish, guarding you from them, but that's what I'd probably do.
Everybody likes you. You’re like a star that fell down from the sky, and everybody wants to see how immaculate you are. And it’s not a bad thing, I know, but I hate to think about that. Because I’m afraid that when these people start wanting to be closer to you, to know what stars are made of, I’d be left behind their trails, barred by their bodies between us and I won’t be able to reach you again, no matter how much I extend my arms to do that. All will be left are stardust, the littlest remnants of you I could still hold, glittering on my palms that nobody else wants. I’m afraid to lose what I don’t really have.
I wish I could hug you. And I wish you’d hug me too. So tight, until my spine collapses.
I wish I could kiss you. I know you’re the sweetest thing in the world.
I wish I could talk to you all day. And we'd share stories we never told anyone before.
I wish we’d never hang up on calls. Oh, believe me, I won't if you won't.
I wish you’d say “you’re perfect to me” one day.
I wish you’d be mine. One day. You and me. I wish.
Sorry, I know this is not that kind of poetry. Just something I wanna say. Well, whatever.
Peter Simon May 2015
All this time I was thinking my life was a movie
I am not an actor, I am a character
I didn’t know I was playing a role,
All I knew is I am a part of a story

It doesn’t need to be a great story
For me, as long as someone
Is eager enough to get the whole of it,
I’m already satisfied

It does not need a lot of kissing,
It does not need a bunch of hugs,
It does not need endless conversations,

The protagonists, staring at each other’s eyes,
Full of meaning and emotions,
Would suffice…

‘Coz a story doesn’t need to end happily
It does not need to show nakedness and drugs
It does not need violence and gore
All it needs is to move even a single creature
Peter Simon Aug 2015
When it rained,
I tried looking for rainbows
But the skies were filled with dark clouds

When the darkness came,
I tried looking for stars
But everywhere was pitch black

Now that I am lost,
I want to look for you
But I know you too are adrift
In your own dream
Trying to figure out
Where those butterflies are

And if they wanted you to see them
Peter Simon Jul 2016
Yesterday, she touched my lips with her fingers.

I wasn't so dizzy but I laid my head on her thighs.

I kissed her on her cheeks, I hugged her so tight.

We talked about our petty little secrets.

We stood on the rooftop taking all the night lights in.

She leaned her head on my shoulders.

Her face complemented the night sky.

I stared at her and I swear she's the most beautiful creature I've ever been so close to.

And I knew in those moments we were just playing some pretending games.

I thought I was contented. I thought.

Now, I know we should stop playing this game.

I'm losing all my cards.

I'm afraid that maybe after we're done playing inside our own storm, I'll be left alone engulfed in the sea of darkness. Scathed by the memories of her. And no matter how hard I try to keep swimming to the shore, I won't be able to find my way out.
© Peter Simon
Peter Simon Jan 2015
The thirst for love,
Isn't caused by never having tasted it
But by savoring it once,
Then losing it on your way through;

You won't crave for something
you haven't tasted yet.
Peter Simon Mar 2015
The sun's hot enough,
To fry an egg on the sidewalk;
And yet, I feel so cold.
So cold like winter.

So cold that if you'd stab me,
I'd shatter into a million snowflakes.

Everything I touch,
Turns ice instead of gold
And I'd rather have
The latter melting

Because I'd rather be covered
With hot metal,
Than drown with this
Melted emptiness...
Peter Simon Nov 2014
In the brink of dying,
To grab air, my faith keeps on trying
The continuation of my existence
My threatened hope’s presence

Are they real?
My demons are shattered
There are monsters under my bed
No, they are inside my head

He talked to me
Yes, my teddy spoke to the boy in the mirror
The bear said he loved him
So, he accused him of lying

I cuddled under my blanket
The mattress hugged me, I felt the placket
Standing by the desk lamp silhouetted,
Who is he? Please, tell me

Now my cradle started hollowing out
My body follows through the excavation
I’m falling to the mouth it has shaped
Dwindling and plummeting through the darkness

Being gulped by the unfamiliar
A place between excitement and anxiety
Someone knocks on my door
Sunlight cuts through the drape’s slit to the floor
Peter Simon Nov 2014
And because without the darkness, we wouldn't see the stars...
Peter Simon Apr 2015
All I can hear is the sound of the wind whistling,
At the other side of the road, there you are standing,
The silence outstands my heart beats' calling,
I see your eyes fixed at me, staring

Suddenly, all I knew is we're at a café,
You're talking funny while we're on our lattés
I, meeting you this morning, did my day,
My ears are stuck waiting for every single word you say,

And you took my number when we parted,
Every time I remember your sweet smile, my heart melted.
Today I received a message from you which read:
I think I've fallen for you even though it's like only yesterday we've met.
Peter Simon Feb 2015
Siguro lasa kang langit
E, paano ko malalaman,
Papunta akong impyerno?

Masarap igapang ang kamay ko,
Sa malambot **** balat
Masarap amuy-amuyin,
Ang madulas **** buhok
Masarap yakapin ng mahigpit,
Ang nakakaakit **** katawan

Katabi ng nagbabagang lampara,
Ako’y pawisan na nagsasamantala
Ikaw na umuungol sa tainga kong manhid
At alam nating walang makakarinig

Mabango **** damit na punit-punit,
Sa matindi **** paglaban
Mabango **** katawan na nagkapasa
Sa mahigpit kong paghawak
Mabango **** hininga na dumaraan
Sa aking mismong lalamunan at baga

Siguro lasa kang langit
E, paano ko malalaman,
Papunta akong impyerno?
This is the Filipino version of my English Poem "How Would I Know?":
Peter Simon Mar 2015
You're like a peacock.
Not because you look like a bird.
But because you're mysteriously beautiful.
I could stare at you forever,
And it'll still be the best thing to do.
Peter Simon Nov 2014
I was stuck in the midst of eternity,
For "forever" seemed tempting
Couldn't choose between fantasy and reality,
For no puzzle piece seemed fitting

You're in front of me,
Words won't come out freely
A butterfly passed between us,
And I wondered if it came out of me

The playground's silence is deafening
The emotions are suffocating
In my head I heard you laughing
Because you're in front of a weakling

Now, I still couldn't decide
Should I tell it to you tonight
'Coz love means like leaves falling,
And you know I'm afraid of heights

But rainbows are free
And so is fantasy
Peter Simon Oct 2016
You were a storm that ruined her.
She was a piece of land who delightedly endured you.
She asked for rain, you gave her hurricane.
And after you're done, you left her ravaged.
But that's fine, she was an artwork;
And she still is.
She gave herself to you, but she'll never give herself to anyone else.

Your paint was the only thing spilled to the canvass;
Her canvass.
And if we are to dust her heart for fingerprints,
I'd be certain we'd only find yours.
© Peter Simon
Peter Simon May 2015
Have you ever seen a night sky so clear;
So clear that there’s not even a sign of the moon’s existence?

Well, I’m under one right now
The street is empty and the darkness is silent
No rustling of leaves or bushes,
No hums of crickets singing in chorus

Window drapes are down
And they’re all black instead of yellow
Streetlights are the only source of light
And that telephone booth standing steadily alone on the corner

Hands inside my hoodie’s pocket, I go in it
I pick the phone up and started dialing a number
When suddenly all the lights go out
In a blink of an eye, and the world is in total darkness

Everything is quieter than ever
Then the wind comes whooshing
The thunder begins applauding
The lighting started like camera flashes

Raindrops as big as golf ***** fall from the sky
And the way they hit the roof of the booth,
I almost believe they’re as heavy
Inside the booth I still get wet from all the sweat

Then, as if on cue, the storm dies
Quietness floods again
The booth light flickers but that’s all
Streetlights never come back

Hesitating for a moment, I slowly go out
I look up and the sky isn’t just a black canvas anymore;
It’s now filled with blots of white ink
Glittered to life

I kick the waters not yet ****** up by the drains
I look at how calm they are
Mirroring the beautiful night sky painted
I can definitely say I’m top and under the cosmos
Peter Simon Jan 2015
I woke up in an ear-bleeding silence
My alarm clock froze on my bedside table

As I shove off my blanket of me,
The sun hasn’t sneaked in the windows yet

So I crawled out of bed
And headed to my room’s glass square hole

Rubbing my eyes, I slowly pulled the curtains,
Only to find out what my eyes couldn’t swallow

It’s not orange clouds in a purple sky that I saw
Instead, a tiny light oozing from the surface of dim Adam’s ale

It’s not fowls that crept among the winds
But hundreds of sea beasts paddling ways in the water

I was dumbfounded by the sight
That I almost fall over

Gently, I tapped the glass window
And to my surprise, it started to crack

And the liquid came flooding into my room,
So I tried to open my eyes and it was over.
Peter Simon Nov 2014
She smiled softly but this time it was different. Her face smiled, but her eyes didn't.
Peter Simon Jan 2015
He sat across the extent,
On the wide room floor

She just curled up on bed,
As if he didn’t exist

He wanted to speak,
But no words came out

Her eyes started to leak,
Although she didn’t dare wipe it up

He stood and walked to the door
With hesitance, he almost fell

She wanted to stop him
As she heard the **** turned

He waited for her,
To ask him to stop

But she didn’t
Her conceit was too high

Nobody spoke
He left
She wept

If sorries were that easy to say
Then maybe, they both stayed
Peter Simon Apr 2015
You've always wanted to tell her,
But you knew it'll never work

So you've always tried to keep it,
Even though you knew you can't

It's like a squirrel hibernated in your heart,
And you knew it won't always be winter….
Peter Simon Feb 2015
There is a thousand distant suns above me.
Peter Simon Feb 2015
Stop setting yourself on fire,
For someone who stays,
To watch you burn.
Peter Simon Jun 2016
I have come to know,

These teardrop bottles I've collected
Lying along with my books on these dusty shelves,
Will sit there and constantly remind me
That they've come to drown away the sadness
I have always had in my eyes

And like the rain to the earth,
They've come to mend the cracks in my heart
That had gone dry
When you were still my sun
Who brightened my days;

And, without me even noticing,
Had slowly burned my heart;
With the fake warmth of your love
All the pain each bottle now holds,
Somehow saved me from turning to ashes

One bottle for every night I've cried,
A drop of tear for every beat my heart skipped;
Bottles which kept not only tears and pain,
But the sounds of my voice at night
Whenever I cried your name

These teardrop bottles still call your name...
© Daniel Grey
Peter Simon Nov 2014
Once, there was a boy
A boy who cried wolf

The town people believed him
So they took all their sheep
They took them all to be kept hidden

Then, the people found out
That it was a prank

They got angry at first
But they forgave the boy later on
Asking him to never do that again

He agreed in everything
Everything was settled, then

The boy did it over again
Of course, the town, for the second time,
Got mad for they believed him once more

They did what they did the first time,
They forgave the boy

This time, they never bothered
Asking him to never repeat what he did
For they knew he still would, soon

And they weren’t wrong.
They heard the boy, again, cried out,
“Wolf! Wolf!”

But this time, no one bothered getting up
To hoard the sheep up to keep safe

In the morning, they were surprised,
Flabbergasted, to be precise
Because in that very daybreak,
They learned that the boy wasn’t lying anymore
The title says the boy lied three times... Yes he did. So, the question now is: "What really happened to the sheep if he lied thrice?"
Peter Simon Nov 2014
Can you even fool the butterflies?
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