Monday, February 26, 2007


Dont joke like that
you hurt my pride
pride of the way
i make you melt inside

i know i can catch you
looking at me with a want
yet i never look up
not a tease, nor a taunt

for though i like you
and these things are pure
i cannot decide about me
its me, i am unsure

for whenever i talk to you
you make me smile
for every word you say
stands out a mile

and yet i dunno
i guess its just a phase
an attraction a desire
sumthing, a blur, a haze

for it's not that i miss you
when you aint there
it's no that i wait for you
with unknown things to share

and yet, i do think
and rewind our words
and yet i do wonder
of things i said and things i heard

forgive me my friend
for thats what your yet
and i pray its a phase for you
for it would be then easier to forget.

Tuesday, February 20, 2007


Oh look at them
Those girls with curls
The sunlight enchantingly trapped
In each lock, in each twirl.

Their graceful glide
Their tinkling laughter
The entrancing beauties
That spelt disaster

And then I saw her
Trapped under her spell
Her glorious hair
Such beauty none could tell

And the wind blowing
Fondling with her hair
Each curl gave a kiss
On her skin so fair

Ooh! Was I jealous
Of the locks on her nape
Of the feel they got
With every drape

Was she a goddess?
Someone divine?
Nah! She was more than that
She was mine

And with that confidence
And with that pride
My smile grew bigger
In every stride.

Oh yes once I did falter
And once I did freeze
For my goddess then
Disarmed a smile at me

A shiver went thru
As she came closer
And I threw open my arms
To caress and hold her

Her smile widened
Her looks could kill
I skipped a heartbeat
It gave me a thrill

And then it happened
And then it came
The inevitable factor
Of blush, of shame

Oh what are you thinking?
Oh where wanders your mind?
Bring it back this instant
For your thoughts are kind

For what happened
In my love story
It held no greatness
It held no glory

Now, let us go back
To the time she was close
A beautiful disaster
Yes I was told.

She looked straight at me
With her teasing eyes
And a twist of her lips
A smirk, not a smile.

How I wish I could predict the future
How I wish I was a seer
For then I would’ve known
She’d call me her “brother dear”

At that moment I realized how ugly they were
Those disgustingly dirty twirls
Damn who cares about them?
Them, those girls with curls.


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