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darknbeautiful-1Poems
The snow blanket the earth but it would never covers the ocean It became a curse of the sea So, it stays on the beach Like a dog on a leash 11 To hell with the night It’s just darkness over- powering the daylight When men are force to close their eyes And dream of the events of the passing day. 111 Liars who called themselves lovers Will never come clean It’s a permanent tattoo Concocted in their brain The road to recovery for them is Systematic and strategic process For them it is a hunter’s game 1V You have taken everything in one’s strides The time sheets, the lunch hours You have become the employer Twelve hours prisoners of the time clocks V Last night I heard Nana voice She said that I worry too much And get little sleep I smell hibiscus in my room That old familiar fragrance scent still lingers But her words became self-soothing She said, let’s go to the kitchen And make a banana bread Worries is for the rich man VI The poor man display his graffiti on cities buildings no admission, no fee priceless art crimes or the best of a simple criminal mind High art or low art Eyes of a rich man Or the eyes of a fool
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Aug 18, 2013
Aug 18, 2013 at 9:18 AM UTC
Dispassionate Objectivity
The snow blanket the earth but it would never covers the ocean It became a curse of the sea So, it stays on the beach Like a dog on a leash 11 To hell with the night It’s just darkness over- powering the daylight When men are force to close their eyes And dream of the events of the passing day. 111 Liars who called themselves lovers Will never come clean It’s a permanent tattoo Concocted in their brain The road to recovery for them is Systematic and strategic process For them it is a hunter’s game 1V You have taken everything in one’s strides The time sheets, the lunch hours You have become the employer Twelve hours prisoners of the time clocks V Last night I heard Nana voice She said that I worry too much And get little sleep I smell hibiscus in my room That old familiar fragrance scent still lingers But her words became self-soothing She said, let’s go to the kitchen And make a banana bread Worries is for the rich man VI The poor man display his graffiti on cities buildings no admission, no fee priceless art crimes or the best of a simple criminal mind High art or low art Eyes of a rich man Or the eyes of a fool
darknbeautiful-1
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darknbeautiful-1
American
Aug 18, 2013
Aug 18, 2013 at 9:18 AM UTC
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