We all need a little love and reminder sometimes
When we lose the hope that used to be our light.
We all need a little bit of shoulder at times
When we can't hold ourselves by own mights.
We all need little pick-me-up dimes
When our smiles wouldn't stay upright
We all need a little love and reminder sometimes
That a bad day wouldn't mean no way
That a bad day might mean oh-...kay
Oh-...alright.
We all need a little loving reminder sometimes
When we lose the hope in the form of light.
We all need loving reminders of love.
Because love is all anyone wished they deserved.
_________________________________________________________________________________
"What if I fall and can't get back up...?"
Thursday, 25 September 2014
Monday, 4 August 2014
The irony of beautiful sad
She sits in silence
With the sirens in her head.
Her footsteps timeless
With the counting of the dead
Her hands feel cold
All her tears have seemed to take the heat away.
This emptiness inside us
The abundance we don't say
_________________________________________________________________________________
Her vision know no colours
While her soul creates hues and lines.
Her body shaking for hours.
Because her heart won't beat in time.
Her eyes have lost their shine
To the stars in her mind.
The path of darkness
Hits the brightest souls in time.
_________________________________________________________________________________
Thursday, 26 June 2014
Stars
"The longer you stare into the night sky,
The more stars will appear.
And I guess thats why
I love looking at you."
Do you see stars in my eyes?
Even just a twinkle.
Or flowers in my heart?
Even just a bud.
Well it drives me crazy,
To see perfection such as this.
It drives me insane,
To see you shining in the darkest of the abyss.
But it drives me even crazier,
Feeling like an obsessive-compulsive disorder.
Staring at a black dot on a piece of clean white paper,
Like a strange alignment or a plainly distorted border.
When you stand next to me,
And all I can see is imperfection beside flawless.
And I feel so lost in my own skin,
Where is the glow, is it something I have to win?
Because I see the galaxy, staring at you.
I see fireflies in my eyes when I speak of you.
Do you see even a sparkle when you glance at my soul?
(This is written for no one in particular nor does the ' I ' really mean me. It does not mean that it was for a guy or girl or a lover or a friend. It could or might have been inspired by my feelings towards myself or someone I hold high regard for, then again it might not have been. I myself am not too sure. I simply wanted to pen down random thoughts.)
But I am however, feeling a little down about not being able to love myself better. Not so much look down on myself but everyone has those days when they cannot seem to appreciate themselves for who they truly are and instead look to others and wonder why they shine so much, way brighter. I can however say that this is inspired by the occasional nasty, deceiving feelings of feeling so inadequate and so much less special as a human being sometimes being with people (talented/pretty/smart/beautiful) I admire so very much. This is all.
The more stars will appear.
And I guess thats why
I love looking at you."
Do you see stars in my eyes?
Even just a twinkle.
Or flowers in my heart?
Even just a bud.
Well it drives me crazy,
To see perfection such as this.
It drives me insane,
To see you shining in the darkest of the abyss.
But it drives me even crazier,
Feeling like an obsessive-compulsive disorder.
Staring at a black dot on a piece of clean white paper,
Like a strange alignment or a plainly distorted border.
When you stand next to me,
And all I can see is imperfection beside flawless.
And I feel so lost in my own skin,
Where is the glow, is it something I have to win?
Because I see the galaxy, staring at you.
I see fireflies in my eyes when I speak of you.
Do you see even a sparkle when you glance at my soul?
(This is written for no one in particular nor does the ' I ' really mean me. It does not mean that it was for a guy or girl or a lover or a friend. It could or might have been inspired by my feelings towards myself or someone I hold high regard for, then again it might not have been. I myself am not too sure. I simply wanted to pen down random thoughts.)
But I am however, feeling a little down about not being able to love myself better. Not so much look down on myself but everyone has those days when they cannot seem to appreciate themselves for who they truly are and instead look to others and wonder why they shine so much, way brighter. I can however say that this is inspired by the occasional nasty, deceiving feelings of feeling so inadequate and so much less special as a human being sometimes being with people (talented/pretty/smart/beautiful) I admire so very much. This is all.
Wednesday, 21 May 2014
Semblance
This pretty-fashioned ball, a masquerade all fall.
Here's the catch and call, it's told to be for all.
Things and possibilities, never ending improbabilities.
Could it be some disability or just sickly incivility?
You don't know who plays the clown, you don't know whose wears a gown.
Forget the crown, they're all in frowns.
This facade keeps going round and round, you wound up only with a slippery noun.
A word, no verbs- just adjectives, you think not twice but in sevens or fifths.
They do a dance, clearly placed in a trance.
Words fall out like a desperate blunt lance, they prance away without a glance.
They forget what no one can forget, yet life won't let us run from debt.
It all comes down to a single trick, you either burn or melt off the candle wick.
But whose to say you're not just as sick, painting blood with a mere prick-like-stick.
Not on their faces, oh that thought misplaces.
But your own skin you force into aces, you'd cover all those hidden traces.
Cut all these bull, we're all just tools.
But I'm the one whose such a fool, putting myself under such a dark dark rule.
(well this was a bloody waste of time, i don't get it either. dont judge me i just needed an outlet)
Here's the catch and call, it's told to be for all.
Things and possibilities, never ending improbabilities.
Could it be some disability or just sickly incivility?
You don't know who plays the clown, you don't know whose wears a gown.
Forget the crown, they're all in frowns.
This facade keeps going round and round, you wound up only with a slippery noun.
A word, no verbs- just adjectives, you think not twice but in sevens or fifths.
They do a dance, clearly placed in a trance.
Words fall out like a desperate blunt lance, they prance away without a glance.
They forget what no one can forget, yet life won't let us run from debt.
It all comes down to a single trick, you either burn or melt off the candle wick.
But whose to say you're not just as sick, painting blood with a mere prick-like-stick.
Not on their faces, oh that thought misplaces.
But your own skin you force into aces, you'd cover all those hidden traces.
Cut all these bull, we're all just tools.
But I'm the one whose such a fool, putting myself under such a dark dark rule.
(well this was a bloody waste of time, i don't get it either. dont judge me i just needed an outlet)
Tuesday, 13 May 2014
Teach me how to stay classy
Teach me how to stay classy,
Certainly not asking for anything too fussy.
I'll hold my words up in a bun,
While knowing how to have just a little bit of fun.
Curtsey and greet others with the hems of my skirt,
Yet remain icy, like a frozen dessert.
To laugh and embrace just like the sun,
Carry loving personalities made to stun.
Charm others with unmistakable respect.
To embrace life as if no regrets.
I'd love so much to stay cultured and not tacky,
Is there a balance of sexy without the skimpy?
Showing beauty, more than skin deep,
Yet indulge in dresses like the only sin.
I'd present language like a full makeup,
Confidence like black gloves, I'll certainly do with no fake ups.
To step in to a scene with elegance and poise,
Classy heels with a good height choice.
Convey love with a smile,
To blow a kiss from a mile.
To be missed when not around,
To be felt without making a sound.
To say so much with simply the twinkle in my eye.
To be timeless, never out of style.
for someone who literally asked "how to stay classy", idk la hahahaha
Certainly not asking for anything too fussy.
I'll hold my words up in a bun,
While knowing how to have just a little bit of fun.
Curtsey and greet others with the hems of my skirt,
Yet remain icy, like a frozen dessert.
To laugh and embrace just like the sun,
Carry loving personalities made to stun.
Charm others with unmistakable respect.
To embrace life as if no regrets.
I'd love so much to stay cultured and not tacky,
Is there a balance of sexy without the skimpy?
Showing beauty, more than skin deep,
Yet indulge in dresses like the only sin.
I'd present language like a full makeup,
Confidence like black gloves, I'll certainly do with no fake ups.
To step in to a scene with elegance and poise,
Classy heels with a good height choice.
Convey love with a smile,
To blow a kiss from a mile.
To be missed when not around,
To be felt without making a sound.
To say so much with simply the twinkle in my eye.
To be timeless, never out of style.
for someone who literally asked "how to stay classy", idk la hahahaha
Wednesday, 7 May 2014
Pretty, beautiful things.
"I'm not the best around pretty, beautiful things."
I'm not the best around pretty, beautiful things.
Pretty things make me stammer, stutter,
Clamp up and feel like butter.
Things that shimmer,
Ugh, they make me quiver.
I'm not the best around pretty, beautiful things.
I shy away & feel inferior,
Wondering what it's like with their interiors.
Are they just cold or really made of gold?
Built to perfection, only missing the tiniest fractions?
I'm not the best around pretty, beautiful things.
I'd think to myself, are we really of the same species? (Really?)
I always secretly wish I could conveniently sink into the abyss.
This attraction anyone would feel,
Not just an appeal, nothing modestly concealed.
That they are blessed beyond bliss,
Their being stuns the eyes and intrigues the mind,
That laugh, surely you didn't miss.
Leaving imaginary footprints behind their every mile,
One could almost hear the shout 'lovely' with their single smile.
Yes, everyone has a lovely soul.
Some just appear lovelier, some just easier, (to behold)
But sadly in our world no one really has the time,
Society only eyes for the ones causing this crime.
The pretty, beautiful and the wild.
Call it envy but I assure you, I'm more beguiled.
Wouldn't you too, be curious to know
What it's like to be pretty, perfect and admired?
Oh, would you say 'what a life to be desired?'
I'm not the best around pretty, beautiful things.
Pretty things make me stammer, stutter,
Clamp up and feel like butter.
Things that shimmer,
Ugh, they make me quiver.
I'm not the best around pretty, beautiful things.
I shy away & feel inferior,
Wondering what it's like with their interiors.
Are they just cold or really made of gold?
Built to perfection, only missing the tiniest fractions?
I'm not the best around pretty, beautiful things.
I'd think to myself, are we really of the same species? (Really?)
I always secretly wish I could conveniently sink into the abyss.
This attraction anyone would feel,
Not just an appeal, nothing modestly concealed.
That they are blessed beyond bliss,
Their being stuns the eyes and intrigues the mind,
That laugh, surely you didn't miss.
Leaving imaginary footprints behind their every mile,
One could almost hear the shout 'lovely' with their single smile.
Yes, everyone has a lovely soul.
Some just appear lovelier, some just easier, (to behold)
But sadly in our world no one really has the time,
Society only eyes for the ones causing this crime.
The pretty, beautiful and the wild.
Call it envy but I assure you, I'm more beguiled.
Wouldn't you too, be curious to know
What it's like to be pretty, perfect and admired?
Oh, would you say 'what a life to be desired?'
Saturday, 12 April 2014
A Father's Love.
He knew you.
Barely a ball of flesh,
knitted in a womb.
Your hands, they formed
Clasped tightly,
His fingers they held.
Even before your body was formed, your heart beat to His lullaby.
Even before your body took shape, your soul knew His very name.
You took your first step and everyone clapped.
Your first fall and everyone laughed.
He held you gently and taught you trust and love,
Trust in your parents,
Trust in the steady ground.
Trust that this Earth was yours to keep for now.
He saw you.
Cladded in a hand-me-down bright yellow shirt,
Khaki green shorts and was that crocs?
Your first step becoming your first step into a new school,
Your first fall becomes your first fail.
Your first crawl becomes your first bawl.
You briefly remember the details of your childhood.
You barely remember the traces of you growing older.
In inches you grew, and grew taller.
But do you know, who held you high from your shoulders?
He remembered you.
Somehow,
You can't quite remember how the actual hell you thrived in
A bloody hellhole like this.
Bloody walls with no roof.
Bloody steps with no ground.
You were better off dead.
Your sister is non-existent as far as you're concerned,
The house is a mad ground and your parents,
Fighting wars against wars.
You were better off fostered.
Fine, why do you care except somehow your case is now.
Did they say home is where the heart is?
Then what if you had no heart?
Feels already like you have no home.
Fighting all day and night long, each man for himself.
Only shadows seem to creep and crawl and follow in your falls.
And in all these, would I dare tell you He was beside you through it all?
He loves you.
In so many ways you can never imagine.
Your every waking moment, timed so perfectly.
Slumber creeps in with His whisper "Goodnight specially".
And when you cry yourself to sleep,
He holds the tears and little sniffs.
You say that He's forsaken you
When He sits silently by your side.
Say He's gone quiet,
When you scream and shout and cry.
You say He doesn't love you,
He sent His only son to die.
Just because He loves you, doesn't mean He won't let you cry.
My father taught me how to swim after I knew how sinking felt like.
My papa taught me how to dream after I swallowed some pride.
A Father's Love is a painful one,
Like flying a little kite.
You pull and tug that little string but it won't understand why.
A Father's Love is a painful one,
true love doesn't deny
One the rights to be 'alive'
or choose to live a lie.
A Father's Love is a heartbreaking one,
you teach and love at the same time.
True love is when you tell your son,
"You can do whatever you like.
But please remember I am here, always by your side."
This is Love, not a guarantee of no hardship, not a guarantee of no pain.
Overprotection causes more harm than anything it would gain.
This is Love, undenying, not self seeking, not envious, never keeping any records of wrong, always persevering.
Always persevering.
Barely a ball of flesh,
knitted in a womb.
Your hands, they formed
Clasped tightly,
His fingers they held.
Even before your body was formed, your heart beat to His lullaby.
Even before your body took shape, your soul knew His very name.
You took your first step and everyone clapped.
Your first fall and everyone laughed.
He held you gently and taught you trust and love,
Trust in your parents,
Trust in the steady ground.
Trust that this Earth was yours to keep for now.
He saw you.
Cladded in a hand-me-down bright yellow shirt,
Khaki green shorts and was that crocs?
Your first step becoming your first step into a new school,
Your first fall becomes your first fail.
Your first crawl becomes your first bawl.
You briefly remember the details of your childhood.
You barely remember the traces of you growing older.
In inches you grew, and grew taller.
But do you know, who held you high from your shoulders?
He remembered you.
Somehow,
You can't quite remember how the actual hell you thrived in
A bloody hellhole like this.
Bloody walls with no roof.
Bloody steps with no ground.
You were better off dead.
Your sister is non-existent as far as you're concerned,
The house is a mad ground and your parents,
Fighting wars against wars.
You were better off fostered.
Fine, why do you care except somehow your case is now.
Did they say home is where the heart is?
Then what if you had no heart?
Feels already like you have no home.
Fighting all day and night long, each man for himself.
Only shadows seem to creep and crawl and follow in your falls.
And in all these, would I dare tell you He was beside you through it all?
He loves you.
In so many ways you can never imagine.
Your every waking moment, timed so perfectly.
Slumber creeps in with His whisper "Goodnight specially".
And when you cry yourself to sleep,
He holds the tears and little sniffs.
You say that He's forsaken you
When He sits silently by your side.
Say He's gone quiet,
When you scream and shout and cry.
You say He doesn't love you,
He sent His only son to die.
Just because He loves you, doesn't mean He won't let you cry.
My father taught me how to swim after I knew how sinking felt like.
My papa taught me how to dream after I swallowed some pride.
A Father's Love is a painful one,
Like flying a little kite.
You pull and tug that little string but it won't understand why.
A Father's Love is a painful one,
true love doesn't deny
One the rights to be 'alive'
or choose to live a lie.
A Father's Love is a heartbreaking one,
you teach and love at the same time.
True love is when you tell your son,
"You can do whatever you like.
But please remember I am here, always by your side."
This is Love, not a guarantee of no hardship, not a guarantee of no pain.
Overprotection causes more harm than anything it would gain.
This is Love, undenying, not self seeking, not envious, never keeping any records of wrong, always persevering.
Always persevering.
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