If humans are exact–
inputting ideas as clear it can be,
then there’s no mystery to be deciphered.
I want to know more. What do you really mean?
If only I were a machine, life would be simpler,
don’t you think?
Speak what you mean,
So I can make us happy.
Disclaimer: This poem is not a suicidal poem. A reader found the poem offensive. He didn’t know that I was being sarcastic. People do read things differently. I was trying to emphasize the coldness of winter. I guess I fail as a poet. I hope his “God” will pardon his impoliteness.
I stood by the train.
Wind is blowing.
Engine is rumbling.
It’s cold, very cold.
Two scarves unfold.
Just wrap it around me
and turn me into a
I draw a line.
Dot dot dot…
Then a child took form.
She wants to play.
Catch the stars, if you can.
She reaches for it, but it keeps drifting
Maybe in space, we can both play.
I hate any word associated with death, hospitals and illness. Death all around is what I see lately. Technology kills the babies. Where are the summer days of youth, when we laid down on the green grass, staring at blue sky, licking ice cream cone? When I had hope that the world will become better, but is it really better?
History reads like a horror story. It’s all craziness. Then came cartoons. It taught kids to fight evil and become strong, but are we really fighting evil at this age in time? Are we just all hopeless narcissists who can’t handle the truth? We are small, very small.
When I was 5, inside the classroom, I had hope staring at the poster of a globe with people of all colors holding hands. We had dreams. Big dreams. Thought humanity was making progress. What happen to those days?
It’s lawless now or is it just that Mom made everything felt so safe that I didn’t think twice about how mad the world is.
Gloomy sky all the time. Lover of flesh always die.
In the winter, I went shopping and tried on many coats, but I thought what’s the point? I already have a lot of coats.
In the spring, I went on a date by myself. Why not? I can treat myself out occasionally.
In the summer, I went to a ball game. I almost fell asleep on the chair out of boredom. I don’t understand the rules.
Now it’s mid-fall, all I want to do is drink hot chocolate.
In the end, it doesn’t matter where you are, you can’t run from yourself.
Unless, you are literally in hell…I don’t think you have time to be depressed. Instead, you’d be in survival mode just like Rooney from NightCry.
Come on, if a monster is chasing you, are you going to just stand still and wait for it to rip you up? Nah, I think I am going to slap it back to hell. STAY DOWN GLOOMY FEELINGS!!
Underneath the grey sky
When things are quiet and subtle
My heart begins to move with the waves
I feel safe
I feel free, and
I don’t understand much about computers either,
“God is here”
Why do brain feel numb?
Why is body hurting?
Body is a machine.
Need to eat.