LOVE
Somewhere a rose was plucked
by someone for a loved one.
Somewhere a song was sung
by someone for a loved one.
Then came a storm-
a storm of time and hatred,
swiped away all the gardens, all the petals
smashed all the violins,
and now, there may not be that rose or that song
or that ‘someone’ or that ‘loved one’,
but the love,
that love still thrives
among the remaining thorns,
and the remaining half-broken songs.
That love still thrives
because love is eternal, unbreakable,
unshaken, impalpable,
because love is love my dear
and love always survives,
no matter,
if thousands of tempests pass by,
if hatred shatters down the sky,
if the sharp blades of time make the stars cry,
it’s love my darling
it’ll always survive.
A SUICIDE NOTE
I was born,
I was black,
but then I didn’t know the things
so that much-it didn’t ache.
I grew up,
went to school,
found that I was some different,
different from the common pool.
People laugh,
they say things,
ask me what I really am.
Everyday,
every breath,
really hurt – so much
that I can’t say.
Hard to die,
hard to live
sorry Ma! but I can’t lie.
I am what they think I am
but still a human
I am.
Why the hell, they don’t get it?
It’s all really
pell-mell.
Dreams shattered, life baffled
I am inside
all tethered.
No one understands and
No how will any?
No one on my side
but against are many.
No friends, no family
No one to love me.
Feels like I am falling
but no one to pull me.
I have nothing but nothing, no one and none,
so this faggot is leaving hope you guys had fun
mocking me,
laughing at me,
I just wish that no one here is born like me,
’cause this place is worse,
even more than the worst,
you will have to die
if you are the first.