Wednesday, December 28, 2016

Trapped i wonder what could be worse,
The harder i try the more i'm cursed,
Enveloped in misery with return to sender as my stamp,
Am i at war with myself or am i just at war by myself,
Perhaps i should be more thankful?
Dear universe is it a sin to desire something better?
It is written ask and it shall be given,
I'm told everything happens in due season,
Though the tongue that speaketh is always dry,
On this pursuit of happiness I've lost my identity,
A quest that has become the matrix of my misery,
If it is fate then I've never been in control,
 I've been beaconed by Betelgeuse and Rigel,
In this land of familiarity I've missed my Orion,

Tuesday, December 27, 2016

(ANONYMOUS)

You hold the key to my great escape,
So i put on a show like a circus ape,
You feed on my desperation for change,
Like a mime my tongue cannot voice my rage,
I sweat and servile the hour glass day and night,
My dreams a mirage fading out of sight,
You forget my ancestor built this land as well,
That i am entitled to the "Dream" you sell,
Land of the free because of the slave,
Repatriation is your whip since you've labelled me a knave,