A Letter To Myself
please my 'self'
this is the only pen that you listen to
the only communication that you will answer to
to all questions that will be asked to
answer them all because you 'll visit no death
to all my friends, you're the better worth
i need your help
i know you will not keep me in the trap
though you will punish my ignorancy
whether i known before or not
this is the law of living toward it
i 'll consider your pain and joy as a help
that travel with all my consciousness
to give me a total awereness
i real need you my 'self'
replay to me in this roaming life
i'm either in the bottom, either in the top
my head is either aside, either front
i roam, i fly like a butterfly
i bet for a direction of laugh and cry
relax my soul
i know you heard them
the one that regards themselves as tall and strong trees
without a doubt they drink fellow's water, they eat
day to day the fellow's food
that overcast and reap fellow's sweats
at the sametime laughing to their fellow's tears
i know how the tremble of the sole
indeed shakes like the earthquakes
the body is nothing
other than sacrificing you to work for it
the brave to fight the timid
as a cat-fight-mice
like education-fight-ignorancy
my tired and weak body hire your efficiency
nothing on dream to fire your offence
non sense to them, non sense to welcome
i amine my 'self' to work till the last breath
but a dust in the rubbish pit
a needle that barbecued
all three brain in my head
all artery and veins out of my heart
hello! my 'self' wake up from all these pains
walk silently in their shades of potrayed betrayals
along side as they left no mark
attack all the anxiety and worries
don't you remember when you were prisoned?
don't you remmember when you were jailed?
out of all their intrigues
you consipired alone and waken up
to fight against the misfortunes
that shrill the skin of the shaped oppertunities
but loandbehold your only fore goings
shade once again their transgressions
pig in a poke their hypocrite pockets
it was the darken door my 'self'
that given you a chance to see the opened window
think once again out the box
run again arround the corner
i know your sweat is more worth
as life is the walking death
it have to print your names
in the ardours walls of their hearts like the northern rocks
to their stiff understandings as necked as dry trunk
in their fledgling blood as dry as a tree stump
to their loyals as offical as court stamp
in their brain adamant as tough as a valiant lion
to their cell...
Copyright © Abed Anthony | Year Posted 2017
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