It's hard, harder for I have to sift right through the junk-filled sewers that maketh my memory. Some memoir I will manage, stink rising with every sigh.
Every step I take, I fail, in that search for silence; for stealth to approach my foes to make 'em all feel the pain I endured when I broke my nose n bones, but the will remained.
That will, I plea every day, with the morning rays, to aid me, to find the steps, the small silent ones, I took as a kid, smiling; but my heart is heavy now...
... So big in girth now that even my baby steps disturb peace; it's louder than the buzzing fan or my panting lungs, both try to pacify in vain the cells that burn, they burn.
That green cover was just perfect, for it leaves my mom glad, her son has a roof. My shifting, swaying roof is loyal to me though, with random leaks, it lets me revel in the blessing from the heavens, opening me to truths, the ones I truly belong to, the ones which cleanse me... It can keep me in a happy warp for hours, watching a ship sail out yonder, or those two boats which always struggle to take school kids to tuitions and then home. This, the time when sunsets never charmed me, its romance never touched me, as I was gay with the waves and the digital snaps of ships I will go home n copy on paper. Then again this shower did make me shiver n run home for a blanket, a cup of tea too, which was always kept warm for I was loved. But the days vanish, into thin air, the western winds blow it, along with the clouds, to the hills. Beyond my reach, yes, I dread the climb and the heights I will reach. For I'm a man, destined to fall; the higher I am, the bloodier my death.
