There is a Girl


There is a girl

And she is beautiful

The way she lives

Is beautiful

Her hair is rays of the sun

Her eyes, ripe blueberries

Her lips, the scarlet of a crayon

Her skin, a freckled field of wheat

Her smile is hot chocolate on a winter’s day

Her laugh, Christmas bells

Her mind, a garden of blooming flowers

Her presence, a blessing

She dresses in colors that match her eyes

She wears too many friendship bracelets

For she is everyone’s friend

And everyone is hers

One day I saw her cry

Like I’ve seen no one cry before

I could feel her hurt

And that night I cried as well

She’s begun to cry more often

And her heartwarming smile is gone

Her chiming laugh is gone

And I can feel her hurt

She stains her sunny hair

She shadows her blueberry eyes

She gives up colors that match her eyes

For colors that match her mind

She gives friendship bracelets for scars

For she is no one’s friend

And no one is hers

To her I am non existent

She’s growing used to white walls

And black shadows

To all these pills

And hospital rooms

I can no longer feel her hurt

I no longer understand it

I’ve seen her less and less

Then not ever again

There was a girl

And she was beautiful

The way she died

Was not beautiful

The Tale of Harvest Poultry



A brick ruffled the neat hedgehogs of Prize Drive, which lay silent and tidy under the inky skylight, the very last plan you would expect astonishing things to happen. Harvest Poultry rolled over inside his bleach pool without waking up. One small handbag closed on the lettuce beside him and he slept on, not knowing he was special, not knowing he was famous, not knowing he would be woken in a few hours’ time by Mrs. Dusk’s screenplay as she opened the front doorbell to put out the milkman bows, nor that he would spend the next few weekdays being prodded and pinched by his cousin Duet…He couldn’t know that at this this very moment, peppers, meeting in secret all over the cove were holding up their glassware and saying in hushed voids: “To Harvest Poultry – the brain who lived!

I took a block of text from a famous book, and changed each one to the next noun in line from the dictionary here:

See if you can guess where it came from.




Two applications diverged in my desktop folder

And sorry I could not use both,

But be a one student, my harsh mind grew colder

And stared, unmoving like a glacial boulder

To notice my low battery where it lagged in the top-right corner


So I closed my tabs (to save battery, I had to deduce)

And having perhaps, the better layout

Because Text Edit was simpler and saved my electronic juice

Though it mattered not for I found why my charger was loose

So they both helped my writing really about the same,


And both that evening equally lay

In formatting no fool had changed astray

Oh, I kept Word for another day!

Yet knowing how work leads on to play

I doubted if I should ever use it again…


I shall be telling this with a tear in my eye

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two apps diverged on my desktop and I—

I chose to make a Text Edit file…

And that has made no difference.

A World of Machines



Far into the future,

Mankind won’t exist,

Their inventions remain,

In our place, they persist.


New languages that have yet to come,

Cuisines making oil into stew.

Fashion made from scrapped metal drums.

The new world, a new chance for you.


But who’s to say this world is better?

Where things like emotions are now just letters,

Happiness to delight, anger to smite,

The man, the machines, an empty fight.


Far into the future,

Mankind won’t exist,

Machines have replaced us,

Our ideals, fade in the mist.

Emotions and Colors



A calming color

Like water, washing away,

All of your worries.


The Passion, The Drive

A fire, burning their thoughts

Act like you want to.

The unique feeling

A perfect mix, red and white

The love that will spread


When you smile, of course,

Everyone smiles with you

The best emotion

Metal Man




It all started like this~

“Your life is in danger. Say nothing to anyone. You must leave the city immediately and never return.”  That’s what the fortune cookie said. My heart skipped a beat!

The letters were written in black ink on blood red paper. I glanced around looking for some eyes that would answer my questions but none did. Then suddenly I saw a black smother in the front glass panes near the restaurant’s entrance. My eyes soon recognized the black smother, as it re-appeared slightly peeking from the glass pane. It was the man in black! The one who always kept his eyes on me whenever I was out of my house. I had always wondered why that man was always there? A few times I even mustered the courage to go talk to him but he as always would wander away before I could catch up to him. It was a secret that I was not willing to share with my parents or close friends. “The man in black” as I had nicknamed him because he was always wearing a pitch black blazer and lead black trousers. Only his desolated grey eyes where not the color of licorice. I quickly got up from my seat my brain blinded from reasoning by the blindfold of curiosity. I sprinted towards the door leading me out of the Chinese restaurant without leaving a wave of departure.

I followed him through the bustling crowd. Making sure he does not notice me. I was so close now shuffling through the crowd fast but silently. Suddenly, his head turned and his eyes met mine. I saw my pale reflection in them, my brown long hair scattered on my face my green eyes alert, my mouth wide open. He turned and ran, ran straight out of my sight. I quickly regained my senses hurdling through the crowd out of the door.

Continue reading “Metal Man”




I often wonder

What tomorrow would hold,

Will there be clashes of lightning, blasts of thunder,

Or the rush of winter’s cold


Would the whole world marvel

At the stars in the starry sky,

Or will there be complete darkness

A single firefly


Would the sound of a hush

Be masked,

With the rush

Of honking cars trapped


Or would everything be still

Still as a radiant sun

Gleaming upon a blooming daffodil,

Displaying spring has finally begun


Would there be rain!

Showering squall,

Allow it to wash away pain

As each bead falls


Would there be a soothing melody

From tweeting birds’ singsong

Preaching to the world in clarity

That summer has come along


Would a splash of cool water

Soak a vibrant daisy,

A respite from the scorching weather

That is boiling crazy


Or would the first leaf drift,

Slowly, gently, down a zone

A stunning shade of auburn

On the grass, alone


Would the wind’s harsh blow

Come rushing with a sneer

Hinting that winter snow

May be all too near


Seasons they pass

Not a moment to spare

Live life to its greatest mass

For tomorrow you may not be here