A man is sitting with demons
Inside his head.
In this room of memories,
Only death breathes,
A man lives with gloom,
A man dies with sadness.
Inside his eyes ,
In that depth of blue terror,
Years of despair are seen,
Years of struggle are painted.
His life,
Cruel and lonely,
Was never a joy,
Bitter and sad
This man lives with demons
Of past.
I can see the pain that
Is painted on his face,
Silhouettes of past that
Play this music of terror,
I see only darkness and despair
Inside the eyes of a sad man.
This sadness is mine too,
This poem is written by the curse of
The children who will never meet happiness,
This poem is a poem of a sad man,
A man who sees nothing but greys.
we tie time
in knots and try
to connect the dots,
but time was meant
to measure between
things and all
we’re measuring
is the difference
between his time
and my time
or between this time
and last time.
30 seconds in the microwave
means nothing
until those 30 seconds
could have been spent
eating the food,
talking to a sister,
or practicing that new
dance move which is only
new because it is newer
than those other moves
because its distance
is shorter to the present
than the other dance class
and not because
it is the next big thing,
although that makes a different
move new.
what i mean to say
is that time is overused,
overemphasized. we give
time the throne
and it rules and makes rules.
we follow them
because we like to think
that time is important
and we are important
and our time is gold,
but even gold
would have no value
if there were an endless supply,
and time is endless, but
not for us, but
time is endless nevertheless.
in knots and try
to connect the dots,
but time was meant
to measure between
things and all
we’re measuring
is the difference
between his time
and my time
or between this time
and last time.
30 seconds in the microwave
means nothing
until those 30 seconds
could have been spent
eating the food,
talking to a sister,
or practicing that new
dance move which is only
new because it is newer
than those other moves
because its distance
is shorter to the present
than the other dance class
and not because
it is the next big thing,
although that makes a different
move new.
what i mean to say
is that time is overused,
overemphasized. we give
time the throne
and it rules and makes rules.
we follow them
because we like to think
that time is important
and we are important
and our time is gold,
but even gold
would have no value
if there were an endless supply,
and time is endless, but
not for us, but
time is endless nevertheless.
