You may not be a model fashion wise
But I model myself in your fashion

the wise one, said things
that should be done.

a wise one, gave meaning
to my poems i've done.

my wise one, understood the things
i didn't notice i've done.

My nana told me
in a letter she once wrote:

friends
come into
your life when
they're needed
most.

they stay
for weeks, months
years even. And go
when both of you have
given each other all
that you can.

So not to
cry when those
you thought would
be with you forever
walk out that door
and move on

For if the day comes
when you need each other
again, your paths will
cross and repeat

I can never respect people who take decisions for others,
Omni present child wearing adolecence .

People must never assume they have all the answers
When you play the role of the actors
Idealising philosophies and mystic factors
You judge, aware of your sorrow bearers
And with each sin, a silent look, and a feather
Torn apart to make it clearer
That he whom survives is repressed
While the new trend is depressed
Yet somehow i still picture you in your white dress,
Realigned.
And the voice i talk to you with
Is mine,
but you are not me
So how can i define
The slips and fissures of your subconcsious mind
And thirst to be free.

To each his field and angles
And if hell is heaven
i am still the devil

Words Of Harfouchism