TanoshiiItsuraku

As I danced on the floor, By the wall, you, a flower. There you were all alone, And a will to meet you, none. Each time I took a peek more, To talk to you, my will, my power, But as I got near to you to talk, You left and now I gawk. No more did my will soar, Alone along the wall I cower. I guess that I am only dense, When this is not my first offense.

Humans are overrated. Their worldly hungers never satiated. Ideals of perfection and imperfection. Isn't all of that some form of misdirection? But don't we, correct me if I'm wrong, Sacrifice each other at the sound of a gong. Bong! Dong! Bang! Shattering into our minds of horrible signs. Clashing cries of these stressful times. Standing here lost in all the confusion. Wanting purpose or maybe some kind of delusion. We have words unspoken from the heart. Songs unsung, a lost, lonely part. Sing! Song! Gone! In a flash of bright bolt fury. The reasons why we fight so clearly. Futile and useless, events that occur around us.

I've always wanted to be an Architect. I've wanted to be a Fashion Designer. I've wanted to be a Landscaper. I've wanted to be a Writer. I've wanted to be an Interior Designer. But I've never been able to pay the tuition. Because of that the Book of Law on Asians. Came falling on my head. A Doctor. A Pharmacist. An Engineer. A Nurse. Is this the slanty, squinty-eyed curse?! Alas my day came when I went to college. Now look at me! I'm halfway done with Pharmacy. That does not mean I don't want to be-- I'll always want to be an Architect.

Everyday that passes, The silver blade gets shinier. Reasons galore to go through with it-- And the reasons not to-- Fading faster than a match going out. Aren't my friends and hopes enough? Everyday that passes, An accident seems so fun. It would be a thrill, a final thrill-- And fade away with flames from Hell. To engulf my inferiorities, my failures. Ridding the world of my stupidity. Everyday that passes, Any and all medications seem to cure. If one doesn't help, maybe the next. Clearing my mind of fruitless thoughts, Curing the "stomach aches" and the "headaches". Killing the weird feeling deep inside. Everyday that pas

Let the silver make for the final chapter. Red now scattered upon the floor. Tears of red being shed, Soon to be stains that won't remain-- Cleaned out before the next day. To walk with the road or across it, In the end it wouldn't matter. For the final chapter is coming. Alone so no one shall know-- When they do, a puddle of red, Sticky and thick, Formed around the body-- Spilled across the soft ground One glane into the mirror, One single thought of regret-- Then gone before a true tear-- Splashes upon the ground, Mixing with tears of red. Barely enough energy to form a smile, Landing on the ground with a thud. A clink