If we could change the past
If we could live the same minute twice
Would we?
If the past moment is the best
What is the purpose of living?
If the memory is the most traumatic
Why do we allow ourselves stuck in that?
If free will is the most powerful
Fear is a liar
Clearly we hold the best cards dealt in life
The Six Sentence Story prompt – Change
Christmas is the celebration of a true King born in a barn. A son was born from wedlock.
All the Christmas decorations are up and in grand display. It grieves me to walk the hussle bussle street in twinkling lights and watch ashen faces begging for spare change. I often wonder is the spare change you ask for, or the human love you call me to share.
‘I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.’ – Matthew 25:40
I can fly
I can hide
I can never say goodbye
Old school photos appear at night
Like yellow butterflies
I am so scared to blink too fast
You are gonna disappeare into the night
I can fly
I can hide
I can never say goodbye
Why does time seem so cruel
Never stops for my will
I am always chasing you
Somehow
I’ll never gonna turn back the time
We spent in moonlight
In sunshine
In starry sky
I can fly
I can hide
I can never say goodbye
They’re lyrics I wrote for a song unsung
Waiting for birth through the pure strings you play
Purified by the fire of your drum beats
They’re stories untold
In too late a Summer
Too early for Fall
I still ring the bells of our love affair
In my dreams filled with passion
I still ring the bells
They’re an illusion of life uninsured
Baiting for foolish souls like us, like us
Mimic every pure intend
Lure us in by nightfall
It’s too late to know
Dreams aren’t for real
I still wrote out the lyrics in blood
Out of a stone heart
Sleep walking in a lonely town
I still created with half a heart
Half a heart too much, too much
These lyrics without melody
Unsung songs fading in the back alley
Untold stories dying, dying, dying
La la la la la…
it is written in sign language
anxious words spilled on the page
like crawling ants
sweeping the sadness away in stanzas
vine leaves left between the pages
holding each memory
in a string of fading yellow hues
tears soak through the book covers
bleeding in mute replay
to earn the applause
of the reader
I don’t understand
Why we can be so stuck
In our failures
Unable to let them go
Refuse to let them hinder
Our present
And beyond
I imagine
The purpose of
Over drinking
Is to numb the pain
The humiliation
So we don’t feel
So we still have hope
Then why
Go back to lick up
The putrid vomit
To experience
the unwanted pain
We are complicated
Contradictory
As humans
Sometimes
Beyond our logical mind
Undeniably insane
We are
She smiles
A smile melts icy tears
Tear stricken eyes, he glances over
Over her spring blossom face
A face no man can turn away
Away from pain, she is calling
A call for home coming
Coming home to her
She smiles
3Lt extra virgin olive oil was on special
One for each hand to strike a balance
for my sore back
Financial saving and health
were the two birds I hit
with one stone
I wasn’t sure
was it Christmas shopping frenzy
or me in shabby clothing
plus 100% Chinese looking
earned the deadly stares
from a few fellow shoppers
I was tempted to grab
a couple packs of toilet paper
to balance on my head
just to be spiteful
or make a point
The righteous spirit in me
saved me from the seemingly
benign beginning of a racial war
in the year of the pandemic
We only see her wiry hair
unknot, unkempt, undernourished
Her sallow face blends in
with the mould dampen walls
We know her dream of a prince rescue
in that desolate tower no more
If hope is what gives her light
the tunnel of time in her mind
is merely a paper clock illusion
embellished with sour milk memories
Flicker of Thoughts 