•

You are a really good fisherman,



And I am just but a foolish fish,




                                                       ­                      Preposterously bitten your hook,
                                                    With your bait of feigned love attached to it,
  



                                   Piercing it all the way to my heart,


                  Leaving me wounded with all of those prevaricates I've fell for,


But I don't know why,

                            I still love the feeling,

                                         That you've been jumping in gladness,

                                             That you've finally caught me,



Even though I was hardly breathing,

               'Cause you've taken  me away from the place,

                                  That makes me breathe and gives me joy.


                                 It somehow gives me relief,

                 Seeing the auspicious sun,

Brightly gleaming into my beautiful scales,

Not knowing it was just a start of a baleful Gehenna!




                    I should've known all along that it's just an entice!




                              But I am still blessed,


           'Cause I have manage to escape,

                                While damaging and harming myself in the process,


From the jailhouse that you've locked me in.




                                                      ­From then on,


              You've learned a lesson,


  

And use NET instead.



                       © Earl Jane
                         ♥ E.J.C.S.

1253

Had this one Day not been.
Or could it cease to be
How smitten, how superfluous,
Were every other Day!

Lest Love should value less
What Loss would value more
Had it the stricken privilege,
It cherishes before.

What else there is in life
Other than our struggle to thrive
The rest are just bluffs
By those, who are not worthy enough

Unworthy enough
To face the world's ravaging
But worthy enough
To sit tight and keep dreaming

To keep on dreaming, and dreaming
By their sleep in the night
By their wake in the day
Comes silently screaming, and screaming

They want change, difference, recognition
Things they don't possess, nor see
Which they will achieve and be
With the might of their creation

The dreams they dream, are different
The dreams they dream, are irrelevant
They escapes from this darkness
Into a world they created, upon the rubbles of their sadness


Pain, misery, disappointment
Carved in, like a mine of silver
As they keep on sitting, sleeping, wondering
As they keep on dreaming, and dreaming

They have power over their world
They have control over their universe
They are the gods of their own
They are the ones we ignore

pummeled down by society
abandoned their own sanity    
But they will live on
Oh, yes, the daydreamers lives on

When I was small
I walked on fairy dust and
my dreams were as tall
as skyscrapers towering
above the universe
inside of me, was the galaxy.
I was born of the cosmos,
full of light and love
passionate in my quest to
give this to others.
But as I grew my star began to fade,
stars need love and light to survive
and deprived of both my blazing fire
transformed into weak candlelight.
At school I had learnt it was easier
to hide your light
than to stand out as different
and be extinguished in an instant.
So I kept myself to myself
at the back of the class,
knowing the answers but not
shouting them out.
I daydreamed, and doodled
stars on the corners
of my books, all the while
I could hear the universe
calling out to me to trust,
that we are all born of this
cosmic stardust.