Saturday, September 5, 2009

Writing a Poem

I stare at the paper
With nothing written on it—
Blank. Just like my mind.
And there I sit:

Unable to communicate,
I scribble some desperate words,
But to no avail,
For they form nothing.

On the brink of emerging
My ideas hold back.
Inspirations inspire me to
Sit there with words,

Time and time again
I give up to forever
Come back and put
Pen on paper and


I wish upon a little star
That I could be an eagle,
Or maybe a little seagull.
Free to roam where I will,
Up in the blue sky—until
Life withers and dies,
But unburdened by a world of lies.

I wish upon a little star
That I could be always healthy,
Or maybe quite wealthy.
Never catching SARS,
And travelling in flash cars.
But when I grow old and die,
The world will never stop to cry.

I wish upon a little star
That I could be a tall mountain,
Or maybe a small fountain.
In which people can behold and admire,
As well as inspire.
The world around will eventually fall,
But I will stand just as tall.

Going, Going, Gone

In the beginning,
Non-existence is dying.
The world is spinning,
Soon, it will be going.

Life forms growing,
Slowly evolving.
But they too are dying,
And they are going.

Nature is decomposing,
Pollution is rising,
Death is increasing,
We are going.

Freedom is going,
Happiness is going,
Everything is going,
And I am gone.

Sea of Glooms

The plant,
A flower.

Spring comes,
It grows and blooms,
Shining brightly,
In a sea of glooms.

Summer goes,
It withers and dies,
Becoming dull and dishevelled
As the delicate petal flies.

Falling and falling.
Lifted by a gental breeze,
Breaking the calm surface of
A pond, sending ripples with eaze.

Time and time again,
The flower will relive
Its brilliance.
Blooming ever so magnificently.

In a sea of glooms.

I Wish I Could Grow Wings

I wish I could grow wings
And fly up to where the heaven sings.
Forever bounded by nature’s laws,
But never by that of humanity.
I want to fly up high and see
The blue jewel as it should be,
But I am already fully aware
That the world is wrecked beyond repair.

My freedom will only earn me more pain,
As high up in the sky, I see the world wane.
Humans are undeniably selfish,
Forever thinking about their own death wish.
Only now do they comprehend
The suffering they had caused to the land.
They say: seeing is believing,
But I do not want to believe what I am seeing.

What good is it being up high alone,
When the world below me turns to bone?
Happiness—I know I will have none,
If all I can do is stare at the sun.
So when the wings on my back swishes,
I would like to make a couple of wishes:
I not only wish my wings will lift me high above the sea,
I also wish my wings will lift humanity’s eternal misery.

A Secret Depression

The New Year has passed,
But the happiness will not last.
I feel utterly depressed,
And my mind harrassed
By what I have realised,
Which is not what I have idealised.

The shocking knowledge that
The truth was hidden under a hat,
And what I have so far achieved
Means that my visions will never be perceived.
Accompanied by grief and sorrow,
My life becomes ever so hollow.

A knife in my heart,
It is just the start.
To know that in order to succeed,
My efforts has to exceed.
But I can not bring my self to try harder,
Or even to see much farther.

My desperation is in vain,
But my thoughts will keep me sane.
All my dreams—shattered.
Not that it ever really mattered
To anyone else, or otherwise.
And now I have to live under disguise.

The pain and the suffering
That my leaving will bring
To everyone around me,
And, as far as I can see,
I cannot commit them, all the same,
To end a world of agony that I aim.

What is the point of life
When all I can feel is a knife
Driven deep into my soul
Bringing out all my woe?
Lying in my soft, warm bed at night,
I feel the cold tears blurring my sight.

But for all the good times that I had,
I think life is not all that bad.
It is only natural for there to be
A rollercoaster in my life’s misery.
I can now feel some purpose in my existence,
So I shall try harder to see into the tainted distance.


The heavy red awning fading
As the eye of heaven falling.
Dusk is drowned out by
City lights blaring in the sky.
Dust falls upon the earth,
Driving away the world’s mirth.
Driving me to break a cry,
But I shall let out just a silent sigh.

This is not the dust that I seek,
Or the waters that constantly leak.
I do not wish to be here
In a bright city lurking with fear.
I wish to be at a place where
The choking dust is bare,
And the sky is full of light
To illuminate this lonesome night.

As my wheels take me far away,
The dust in the sky lightly sway.
Chewing on a large bar of Mars,
I see the dust falling from the stars.
The whispy light dancing around
And the wondrous silence of sound.
O! What a starry night,
What a beautiful sight.