My life has 9 rooms.

One,
Each passing day I welcome thoughts of her into my mind.
Thoughts I can only hold on to in times of despair.
Two,
I could swear I see rainbows under my pillow each night.
But whenever I trace it to the end, I see no pot of gold.
One of these days, I might recruit a search party.
Three,
I eat, sleep, and wake.
That’s the daily routine.
Anything else comes in second place.
I hope the same won’t happen on my wedding night.
Four,
If I ever get married, I won’t say no to anime.
If I have children, I’ll make sure I pass the tradition on.
For what’s life without comic books and cartoon network?
Five,
To the boys who will one day date my daughter,
I started perfecting head shots the day she was born.
I bought a large size plastic bag the day she started school
And I’ve got a silent gun too.
Six,
To the girls who will one day want to date my daughter,
Let’s just hope I have only one bullet left when meet.
Seven,
I’m scared of heights,
So I never raise my hand in class.
I fear the eagles of failure will pull off my hand of hope.
That’s why I keep it hidden.
Eight,
I keep consoling myself, saying
“My time will come”.
What I didn’t realize was the clock of life was actually waiting for me to insert the battery.
Nine,
I call my failures Adwoa

And my successes Abena,

My hopes bear the name Akua
Ten,
I try very hard to keep myself under the carpet cos I don’t want to be noticed.
……
By:
Dheric Da Poet

Comments

THE DAY WE DIED and some other stuff

Day after day, the same way, we count the days we have left to live. There's no problem with that. Just that our minds grow in sync with that info, so we mentally shorten our own lives. We've got nothing to lose. And hence a lot to gain. So the more we count our days, The more the pain. This is just Free-writing. There's nothing more to it. Just heed to the advice because it's legit. I'm walking down writer's block, wondering where to go. So I'm just scribbling; I've got nowhere to go. Writer's block is a hard thing to hit. It's like fishing with a bottle cork. It's true some of these lines don't fit; I'm just emptying my stock. Don't mind me wae, Writer's block is not real. It's just an illusion; One which can kill💣. Don't stop writing, And blame it on an illusion. Merge your art with passion, Now that's what you call a fusion. Writer's block is for dummies. For lazy people...

It's Wrong

I don't know your pain. I don't know your sorrow. I don't know a thing about what you think. All I know is... It's wrong. Imagine my fist upon your cheek, Breaking every bone upon impact. Would that be right too? Since what makes us happy, is apparently what is right. You like to walk naked. I want my clothes on. You love to smoke in public. Even chimneys hide their faces in black. If it's right because you love it, The prisons should be empty. The asylums should be playgrounds. And the policeman should probably be out of a job. It's true our ideas may differ. Our mentalities also might. Our natures might also differ... But our world remains the same. The world you destroy by what you love May be the one you repair with what you hate.. Dheric Da Poet®

EYES WRITE RIGHT

Windows to the soul; The pathway to greatness. Bringer of light; Remover of darkness. Take my pen, Ye portal of tears. Inscribe what thine heart sayeth, Ye sighter of fears. Write my stories, Both black and gray. Include the past I threw away. When tongues and ears refuse to see, Be my sight. When hearts and souls sing, Take note of my dance steps. For when eyes write, The right things are said. The right things are done, The right things are heard. Revelation Poet ©2016 Follow me on [ FACEBOOK ]

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