~ WAR ~

When the rooster crowed, I stood there,
Hands ****** from the night before,
The dust settling, the bodies emerging,
Like waves of terror crashing upon the shore

I am only seven, there are many dreams I have yet to have
Like of the place where I used to live,
Where the skies were clear, and the sun was bright,
Now nothing seems to go right, even if I've given all I can give

My mother once said, "Bravest are the souls who fight the hardest battles,"
But mama, I'm no soldier
I'm merely a boy whose toys were ripped apart by the exploding shells
And whose life burn with ashes, fire and hell

I'm only seven, but I am no fighter....I just want

~ PEACE ~

You see that tall skyscraper over there?
I'm going to build one just like it someday,
But it will not be a touring spot on display...
it will be my castle, a fortress to stop all those in my way

I am only seven, but I know I have big dreams
To hold the most power in the room, to have the prettiest girl beside me,
Like the movies I have watched, the sky is the limit
And it might be a tad bit cliche but I'll make sure everybody sees it

Greed is not the word that I would exactly use,
But know that I will choose my happiness every single time
I'm not really a fan of violence either
But for this cause, exactly, I'm willing to commit crimes


*Kids who live without knowing peace, and kids who live withou knowing war, have different values

Going back
to the
Point of
my birth
To ****
the child
So  it will
not have
To endure
the hurt.
I know we can
Choose
our paths
Sadness
and hurt
Prevails,
If I could
**** myself
So not to suffer
These ails.

We are not
Consulted
If we wanted life
I got first prize
This little
*****
Was fertilised.

Nine months in
A darken  room
On me own inside
My Mothers
womb
I popped
out 11th
Of June
Just a baby
a ******* loon.

Got to go back
Don’t you see
To stop the hurt
Thats killing me.

Let's go back to nihilism, shall we?
Where everything doesn't matter and will never matter.
Not even your presence
Your absence
Your excellence
Not even my ignorance
My obsolescence
My essence

Let's go back to existentialism, shall we?
Where everything doesn't have meaning and will never have.
Not even your eyes
Your smiles
Your scars
Not even my part
My hurt
My heart

You simply exist
I simply here
It's not destined
It's not meant
We simply bumps into eachother in this chaotic world
Like particles in a vessel, the world is heating up.
They collided more often.

And that
Doesn't mean a thing.

Though racked and broken,
Bringing words of wisdom spoken
Like a prophet crying out in the wilderness.

With a reputation for cleverness, lo,
Thought to be vexatious by some, numb,
Carry on in a wasteland, with hums slow.

Hail the great lyric poets, those actual,
For the rhythms of an old poet, practical,
Are somewhat freer, more natural,

And filled with absolute truths.

Time is a starving god
And each year she becomes more savage
Her gluttonous face stuffing
My years drip from her cheeks
As if my slow aging is payment for my existence
I give a year to live the next
Turning life onto a sacrificial death
To appease an ever unsatisfied deity
A mindless consumer of the harshest variety