Bus To Bedlam

Charles Chipcho caught the bus to bedlam, 

He did not think even for single minute, 

If he'd ever make it back, 

And, because he had a two-way ticket, 

He relaxed and made merry 

with all the merry-makers of bedlam.

Let Not Your Memory Be Too Short

on the day you remember people 

who did you a whole world of good, 

let not your memory be too short

because those people did not do it because you deserved it

they did it out of the goodness of their hearts

Let not your memory be too short 

You can move mountains 

for people who wouldn't move a molehill 

Remember that they do not owe you reciprocity

Do it out of the goodness of your heart 

 

 

Unavoidable

 for long, you were disciplined, 

you did not indulge in any pleasure, 

it felt good to finally tame your demons, 

for the first time, you felt untouchable, 

the only opinion that mattered was yours, 

but, because God has a sense of humor, 

you were struck, at lightning speed, 

by something unavoidable. 

And, after all the sacrifice, 

you are back to where you began.

The Jailbird

I know, without a doubt, 

Of a prisoner inside of me, 

I am a jailbird, 

Twenty-five to life 

No possibility of parole, 

I still maintain my innocence - it wasn't me 

All I ever did was not consenting to be born

Rolling Back Time

looking back, 

it is amazing how I thought

of the vast opportunities that lay before my eyes, 

I stood atop a mountain and gazed down 

at the beautiful and rolling fields, 

all for me to conquer 

but then life happens, 

I realised that it is unfair

and I never accepted it,

I haven't still. 

The Gloom

often, when there seems to be no way, 

and as sure as the sun will go down, 

a silent prayer, 'please let it be today' 

but there it remains - the same old frown 

the stomach grumbles with discontent

there hasn't been much to munch, 

each passing hour increases resent 

of the discarded food and free lunch 

 

there is nothing to enjoy - not a movie, 

not that favourite song, not nothing, 

the pangs increase, gravel would taste like gravy 

at least it would be better than nothing 

and then, stuck in a web of gloom

nothing ever comes to your mind 

everything seemed crammed a tiny room

you search, but there is nothing to find

 

The Drifting Laughter

the more your laughter drifts further, 

the more this life becomes a puzzle, 

and in the bustling bubble of happy people, 

the more I am struck by the significance of 

of both your absence and presence