Others sleep on street,
While others wear watches of Rolex.
It’s not time to relax,
Cause we have no time but more work,
That’s why I am so dead as Poet.
Pen and paper make me think about life as pain in pages,
No matter what it is, my words can never die,
But will ever fly.
See me, see prophecy:
That’s what life can’t take.
I see stars dead one day,
But why not soul.
Life of solitude is so superb,
Majority in captivity of life, it’s perilous.
Life bang like gang, it takes joy and tears so time does.
I see me through you; really I lived death,
I loved me, and give hug to myself,
‘Cause one day I will lose myself
Finding trust that is lost inside life’s pleasures.
Love left me destitute, no heart to inhabit; it’s hollow inside.
I thank, at least I can’t live without.
So within, I search for myself while I am lost on other self.
Dearth and faith is good in bad;
That’s life bandages