Tuesday, April 19, 2016


The sun is finally going to surprise me tomorrow
My stalking fool is going to advise me tomorrow

I am not who you think I am. I am not she.
My yesterdays will once again disguise me tomorrow.

I sink in wonder, jump in pain, and wait. And wait.
I hide right here. But someone will despise me tomorrow.

Are you a wind-up toy like me? Let's be whoever we want!
The twisted genius baby will revise me tomorrow.

I grow towards the sunshine, I swallow mysteries.
I collect the aching riddles: the skies, me, tomorrow . . .

All of the wisdoms stream past, uncatchable.
If I nab one will fools line up for wise me tomorrow?

Every day a new awakening, each day a revival.
Bitter to sweet, but what flame will baptize me tomorrow?

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