Monday, January 23, 2012
Monday, January 16, 2012
He did not have fun memories of childhood.
He worked like an ant;
He aged faster than his folks.
He was a millionaire;
His daughter-in-law looted him and he is broke.
He was a well-known political figure;
He fears for his life now.
He was a popular celebrity;
Media took his liberty.
He was an enthusiastic poet;
He is mad.
He was a famous footballer;
Too many tackles broke his legs.
She was the sexiest actress of her time;
She looks scary now with her boobs touching her knees.
Lost is the old me.
Gone is the blood that enraged me.
Dimmed is the light that brightened me.
Distanced is the road that lead me.
Tired is the voice that expressed me.
Failed is the plan that guided me.
Broken is the trust bestowed upon me.
Faded is the colours which painted me.
Weakened is the body that ran me.
Increased is the fear inside me.
Smaller is the picture inside me.
Bigger is the doubt inside me.
But still, defeat is certainly not me.
Ain’t it romantic, huh?
You would die for her..
Ain’t it beautiful, yeah?
You will do anything for her..
Hey is it burning?
Yeah it is..
Does it seem trembled?
Sure it does..
Hey its your house..
Ya sure it is, what??
But can’t you see?
Did you not hear?
How your mother is..
Here you are, with your sweet.
There she is, out on the street.