Lost

Staring at the mess in front of me
Meanigless work, alien language
Listening to the music in my ears
Melancholic tune, foreign melody
Thinking of past mistakes
Regret mixed with sorrow
Irrevocable damage
Swimming in bitterness
Mind engulfed with her thoughts
Foolishly dreaming, wasted efforts
If only wishes came true by wishing hard
She would be smiling at me again
Fantasy brings tears to the eyes
Reality all but forgotten
Exams given up to fate
Already, things are way too late.

Poems on Tissue

As I sit here staring into space
I steal glances at her pretty, pretty face
And it inks into my memory so gently
Like the pen scribing so carefully
Not to tear the tissue into shreds
At the same time keeping my mind intact
Both ever so fragile
Soft, impressionable textiles

Standing in the House of God
Enraptured deep within my thoughts
Song and words stir up much emotion
In others, but I remain resilient
Refusal to accept their ways
Yet upfront, my angel prays
Unlike most tissue stained
I remain much free of taint

Looking out into the rain
Oh, such beauty, it causes pain
Inside, it’s freezing cold
If only, it were the right soul
Eating ice cream on a rainy day?
Ah, the numbness keeps troubles away
But tissue’s no good at wiping
The cold frost that’s icing

Music

If music doth soothe my soul,
Then thou art the instrument of love
Whose melody, maketh most man
Once wise, are now become fools.
And thy voice tinkles like wind chimes,
Soft and clear, a calming tune.
A note rising above the rest
Of mundane, toneless, sounds
Yes, music doth soothe my soul,
And thou art the instrument of my love
Who hath playeth the Piper’s Song,
Leading me blindly to thine river.