This poem is for my friend, D.
please keep going.
I've been writing poems
above clean sheet of thin foams
I was really amazed
As if I was in such a daze
You stand ten meters ahead
You never left anything worthy, unsaid
You were beyond creativity
In fact you were born quirky,
And with humility.
I've heard and seen amazing literary pieces,
But yours tell poems their true essence
Where I seemed to find myself a stigma
Evenly the same with redemption
A place to hide away, a solution
To me, pens became an effervesce goods
And papers, my world to vent my moods.
It was a food keeper
I didn't know you were sentimental
Inside was indefinite number of crampled paper
Where hidden was the pastels of my own favor
I was surprised
Who wouldn't be?
A person made an effort
And it was for me.
You may not have seen my expression
But you without hesitation
brought the gift
Without any frustration
Weird as it may sound
But your quirk stands above the rest
Even now that I am not around.
Said my pal you were the only one with that gift
And it really gave me a lift
From frowns to simper
From simper to laughter
You might not have seen my simple gesture
But my expressions were unexplainable mixture
It was the hidden pastels in my pouch
That I couldn't say
I couldn't bring about
That you didn't know
It was a bad move said the crow
who's the Crow?
It was intuition
You were once a repetition
For the reason of a full year of injection
And we—
were once in the same section.
Past the months of avoidance
There was a tinge disturbance
Where I heard the sound of ambulance
It was once a light bother
Until it became much more darker.
And you really moved a little more farther
And then you leap into the further
You,
yourself chose to smother.