I write a few x’s, a finker, a tiddle,
Then suddenly some luster; it’s over – the nightfall.
Selfless, simple, true and plain
When will our greed vanish, maybe wane?
Today I speak of nothingness
But discontent and tired chest
I look to far and distant place
To things I love, things I embrace
when all you do seem futile and plain
do i blame me? my choices? my pain?
Self-doubt have long since clouded my confidence –
Never trusted my instincts, not a single ounce of credence –
What others see in me – always blind to my perspective,
How to have faith in thyself? Be one bit positive?
sometimes we think, sometimes we speak –
sometime we do neither, well I don’t know the trick
to be eloquent, to be fluent, I dream to know the secret
But first I must know what that word they say albeit.
“Follow your inner moonlight; don’t hide the madness.” — Allen Ginsberg
Do you follow Ginsberg’s advice — in your writing and/or in your everyday life?
I silence, I’m mum, no blurting of thoughts
As hard as I can muster, no protest you’ll hear
I’m composed, to myself, to shout will I naught
No worry, embarrassment, neither of sheer fear
My mayhem’s inside, takes strength to conceal
A talent so wicked, takes a great amount of skill.