I’ve seen the way you look
look at me…
Through the corners of my eyes.
You have nice eyes.
I like your hair too…
You’re really smart,
Maybe this is the start
of something greater…
If you feel the same way –
We could be?
Us.
Me + You.
The missing piece to my life –
Well, not missing, just found.
Found at a time so unexpected.
We could grow old
Together!
Share the stories – you and I!
Us.
Maybe?
Someday?
I’ll wait.
I’m patient you know.
I’ll wait forever…
And more.
Isn’t it weird how she sits?
So quietly with a book.
She doesn’t say much, doctor.
Could you please make her okay?
Madam, I’m afraid I cannot help.
She has a severe case of being unique.
It’s rare, but fatal.
It will cause her to suffer…
People will criticise her and mock her.
She’ll have few friends, if not none.
Oh no! My poor girl…
There must be something,
Something you can do!
She’s my only.
I understand, all I can do is kill her passion.
Back in the day it worked.
They used to make people work,
Doing jobs they hated…
They were paid terribly,
Taxed heavily too.
The poor got poorer;
The rich got richer.
Please! Kill her passion!
All it takes is a day,
A day in the life of a 21st Century Adult…
Maybe not so soon…
Oh well the baby is out!
Might as well be good.
He snapped away at beautiful things –
He was one of the best;
Able to capture momentary bliss.
His life in stills would be momentous;
Memories and moments of making smiles.
It’s easy to capture the outside;
It’s a gift to capture the inside.
But he did it – every time,
Maybe it was in his finger…
But as he snapped he got older,
Until one day his arthritis finger hurt to push.
That’s the day he had his portrait painted.
I painted it.
You should have seen his smile;
It radiated.
It made me smile.
That’s rare.
Now it hangs above his rocking chair
Next to the fire place.
His smile is eternal now:
To match his photographs.
Remember when you
said that Asia is in South
America – HA!
Simple curve of lips
brightens up the dull white room
and makes us happy.
Young poet with the blonde hair!
She had this interesting affair…
He got really angry at her ways,
she didn’t care – so she says.
She cheated on him with her art
because her art would never cheat her.
It gave her more joy to hold a brush of thought
and a palette filled with colourful thoughts,
unlike his monochromatic personality.
She can paint her fantasy with words
and not be abused by him.
Young poet with the blonde hair!
Everyone walks past just to stare…
She’s so happy now with her life,
it’s all gone now: the hate, the strife!
Life is rough;
perhaps too tough
for some.
I’d say sorry
but sorry means
very little nowadays.
And it would
be rather
insincere if I said it
because I am a third party.
But for now
don’t be angry.
Move on and
have faith
in Karma’s powers.
Such a nice boy
Was he.
Until they chopped him down
They did.
Until he fell down bleeding
Yes he did.
Chipping away at his nice
they did.
Piece by piece he died
Sadly did he.
They made an example of his broken
They did.
Martyr for nice martyr for real
He was.
They destroyed hope, those people
They did.
You don’t need a crown
to rule over people’s minds.
You don’t need a thrown
to have the respect of others.
All you need is:
voice
brain
cause
image
Look at him!
He beats his chest with his ways,
not his hands.
They all listen – and stare.
They follow because he had a voice.
He made them believe they needed a cause.
He was the cause.
You see – he has a brain.
His image was power because
from the beginning he was King.
No need to say you’re king
if you believe you’re king.
People follow if you believe.
Now he rules them;
quite simple really.
Mr Individualist 