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I went to a flea market today
And between the stalls peddling jade
Antique swords
And old Japanese plastic toys,
I found a box of photographs
Forgotten by time

I picked up the photographs one by one
And in each of them I saw countless stories.
1940's Taiwan.
1920's Japan.
A couple.
A group of men.
A rice field.

I watched the smiling faces and the wide, vacant grins and wondered,
'Who are they?
'Where did they go?
'Who did they go home to?
'Where are they now?'

I looked at the photographs and saw us.
Happy. Content.
Unfettered by the passage of time.
Unaware that one day, we'll be nothing, or everything.
Uncaring about how short and how eternally slow life can be.

I look at us and wonder,
'Will anyone remember us, fifty years from now?
'Will anyone care what happened to us?
'Will we simply be, sixty years from now, old photographs in box in a ***** flea market?'
I found no answers to my questions.
I doubt I ever will.



I went to a flea market today.
But that's all in the past now.




I put the photographs back in the box.
I'm feeling very sentimental.
Weak is the light
dancing upon the thread...
That makes the horizon.

Lacklustre is the moon
that rose up proud...
But failed to inflate whole.

Dim are the stars.
Twinkling feeble
that seem further than far.

Dark is this night
soundless and still...
And black as coal.
Everyone's demons are different.
There can be a thousand poems,
all entitled Demons
and not a single one would be the same.

We all must face our demons
Stand tall, eyes wide.
Take a deep breath.
We'll hold hands
while we face our own demons.
You may be alone in your fight,
but you are not alone for good.
Even I have a poem called demons
If this tree
should ever come to fall

Let its gnarly limbs
point up to heaven

If its heart
should ever come to a stall

Let it die
with errors pardoned
and sins forgiven
lets share the Moon,
Time it just right,
Both look up in unison,
To bask in his light,

Oh man up there,
Tell mine I love him,
And tell him to say it back,

For Moon you connect us,
And tie our days
In a knot.

oh Moon, I'm jealous.
You get to look upon him each day,
Please send a message,

Write it in your dust,
Where I know he'll read,
Moon, moon please may you say,

"She loves you she loves you,
More than I glow,
Like I and the stars, she will never go,
Always there, up in the sky,
She's here,
For every second that passes by"

And each night,
We will both look up in the night,
And the comfort of him knowing,
Will cradle me tight.
Myles
Crush me,
Add another blow,
What will one little hit do,
To an already drowned soul.

Choke me,
Smother my bones,
What good is the body,
With an ashen soul.
White princess,
Up in your diamond and ivory
Chanel and Louis tower.
Above all of us-
Simple folk

White princess,
Walking on pink rose petals
Spilled at your feet
By your family,
Who are just like us-
Simple folk

White princess,
Hands untouched by labour,
Soft as silk and water.
Skin unburnt by sunlight,
And unscarred.
Unlike us-
Simple folk

White princess,
Who will never know hardship
Pain, or suffering.
Walk all over us in your
Black and red Louboutins.
All of us-
Simple folk.
So done with this girl in my class.
No amount of poems
No amount of words
Lyrics, songs, verses, or novels
Can adequately express how much you inspire me.

No amount of grains of sand,
Droplets of water,
Leaves on trees or feathers on birds
Can enumerate my absolute adoration for you.

No amount of days
No amount of hours
Months, years, decades, or millennia
Can appropriately describe how ardently I want you in my life.

And no amount of time
No amount of dark or light matter in this universe
And no stretch of imagination
Can comprehensively express
How much I love you.
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