I am so sorry
You’re gone hurry
With your lorry
Near by the ferry
Were eyes cherry?
I am so sorry
I like yours diary
And dress of hurry
Don’t go on jury
Is it Tom and Jerry?
I am so sorry
You look like fairy
Having some berry
Really, that’s worry…!
JESUS CHRIST, THE HEAVENLY LIGHT *
May the colourful Christmas lights
Radiate joy, show delightful sights
And soon bring to an end
The ever-widening violent trend.
May there be no fearful threats
Of brutal, bloody fights,
No dark clouds of deadly smoke,
No pungent smell of burning sulphur,
No deafening thunder of terrible gunfire,
No ugly scenes of ruined homes
And piteous orphans' cries
And parents' heart-rending wails,
No sorrow that dims the light
In anyone's eyes.
May the light of knowledge and wisdom
Illumine the path to happiness,
May the light of joy and love
Sparkle in everyone's eyes
In every humble home.
May the divine voice of Jesus Christ
Lead all mankind from darkness to Light.
Impossible not to love her
And this she already knows
Using this in her advantage
Bugging us as she goes
Impossible not to tell her
How she’s obsessively nosy
But she doesn’t have to be sad
Her laughter’s so damn cozy
Impossible not to show her
That she is one of a kind
Wish to play and replay her
Until I’m tired to hit rewind
Impossible not to fill her
On the alien that she is
Can’t have been born in this world
Outmost clever humorist
Impossible not to spoil her
Keenly fond of our sweet doll
She’s so cheerful, she’s so joyous
The name Merry says it all
It is for the reason we think and think and think,
That the finishing line seems to shrink and shrink and shrink.
Their trophies and our consolation prizes, we always link
To the faces of where it matters not if we stink.
We grope and grope, but never look;
Only offer our eyes to reference books,
Pay our lives to learn how they sit and smile and dress and cook,
When we could carve out crafts of our own on hippocampus walls to hook.
Charts and charts of sound waves go farther than needed into the ear,
But in this statistic, there are more of those which we are deaf to hear.
Then we wonder, perhaps they will listen if we talk our fear through beer.
What we cannot, we must preach, so in the morning it’ll all be clear.
Putting on several mouths, sincerity seldomly salivates in our tongues.
And all we ever scream about, we let clump and clog in our lungs.
Our voices, we swallow, then verbalize universal dung.
Is that easier than to allow our singularity be hung?
To possess such delicate bones under thick coats of flesh and skin,
One little sting, we crumble as if our framework isn't as fortified as tin.
But sometimes when too stung, we rigidify and our cutis turns lean.
Our pores, too open, that even what doesn't exist, we welcome in.
And so, we stick to our lifelong work of homemade bibles,
And add commandments every time we build stables,
Along with valuables from the places in people’s fables.
Only us can decide to make room for new tables.