but you shall still fall short of everything that precedes you.
greedy maisarah, eager maisarah, she wants to marry the whole world.
spreading little seeds of impression so the only trace of it is washed on the blue shores of
depression on aided days on walls of celebratory calls.
you have spoken to them for at least one hour each,
talking about the future the past the post and pre
on nights where the movies are played on the screen at a distance
and you timid, gawk at the height of aspiration
or you feeling lofty, spoke of literature and philosophy to the scrawny
or you feeling friendly, depart all hate and unscrewing all dormant secrets
or you feeling bored, simply want to entertain the thought of being someone else
for a day or two, not without a remorse
or feeling stupid, try to mingle in fear nibbling in cups
and appear as the odd one out – how pathetic.
come come, wear all masks, empty your mind
and gaze at this odd deformed little display
and they know not what still lives in her to this day
is this desire to burn burn burn brightly
to exhaust oneself until one expires.
perkaraperkara 