I was never
one, who would write a poem,
Or a story
or a prose or a vignette or a post,
For each one
strips the naked soul,
And people
cheer and amaze at the fake gold.
Stars…,
How they all
want to be,
Wishing for
a promising life on TV,
But never do
they know the misery,
Of having a
name that you do not own,
But becomes
an object everybody wants to own,
A man, a
kid, a girl, a lady, - they all, yes they all.
Dinah
Washington couldn’t tell it any better,
Marilyn was
trapped in all its glitter,
Lennon was
betrayed of the very Peace he portrayed,
And Michael;
Michael was haunted by the very same Love he loved.
You will run
so fast, thinking the nights were days,
Making friends
along the way,
Only to realize,
That you
will be the only one to end the play.
And all is
left,
Is your
yesterday, haunting your every day.
So listen to
this when I say this,
That you can
run-
Anywhere you
want-
From China
to America,
From Asia to
Europe,
Wherever you
can elope,
To the Alps
and below,
Searching
for what you are looking for,
As for me I
stopped in Kuala Lumpur,
Because if
Happiness is what you seek,
Then it is
Him that you must seek,
Because no
other melodies can do,
Soothing the
Hearts how His Words will glue,
From Him all
the way to you.
- City of Marl, Summer of 2013.