Skip to main content

My Old Man




My old man didn’t bring me to life
But he sure as hell is there every step of the way;
Cradling the innocence within me,
Dragging my bones, sometimes way too harshly
And yet I don’t mind, I never do

He walks as much as he talks
wearing the grey too early for his folks
Every time his mouth opens,
he breathes out my lifeline
And yet I don’t mind

The ship bows when he whispers to the wind
The time comes for the sun to dim,
He lingers, not even once giving in
Through whomever mouth the cruelty slipped out,
He stands, not even once giving up

I recall finding every bones in his body breaks apart;
His voice raised, his blood dried up;
Saltwater pooling in his clear stare, more than he can ever bear
But never once I feel the grip of him loose from my ends

I might not come from him, not entirely
But I might as well be, I always wish I do
For he is the only living breathing human being,
whose quarter blood runs in my vein,
never breaks my heart,
or put my wrists in chain

Every good pieces of myself lives in his eyes
And from within I found out clearly
That a father could lay underneath something
Way further, with grand in the beginning

Forever is fucking numbered
But, oh, my old man,
I would never ready to greet you with goodbye
And yet I shall not mind
Well, after all of your sacrifices,
How could I? 
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Once upon every night

I misread the map and forget to say But you brushed it with “it’s okay, I prefer we took the long way” You smiled and let the music play How can you avoiding the right turn Makes my stomach burn Maybe it’s because the wheel speed doesn’t really match my heartbeat The one goes slow, the other one is overflow All we do is screaming out To the old song you like Our voice is tone deaf and sounds horrible At the moment I realized that my feeling is in trouble I cursed at the crowded street That you seemed to enjoy every bit It’s the way that you never think twice To not let me be alone under the night lights Maybe it gives me shiver More than the way you open the door Or bringing close my dinner Now you ended up being more than a blur
1 comment
Intrigued enough? »

It's About Time, Bil

I might be the most stubborn hot-headed person you will ever met, I might have the most annoying laugh you will ever heard, I might never stopped talking until your ears blown off. Believe it or not, there is another person who is as stubborn as me with the similar taste of jokes and complex thoughts. But she is way smarter with words, that I always feel like my writing will never be good enough compared to hers. She complained about how rarely I show my affection towards our friendship through my writing or my random post on instagram. To say that I don't have enough good pictures with her is just a mere excuse because I can simply write my feelings out like I did for my other close friends. But when it comes to her, I never feel like my written word is ever enough. She is a much brilliant writer than I ever be, and most of the time I feel like my words didn't do justice to describe it; to describe how she can be infuriating with her anger & big fire towards injustice of t...
Post a Comment
Intrigued enough? »