April 10, 2008

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Filed under: Faith, Deep Thought, Arty

After eons, I’m ‘emo’ enough again to start writing prose. I put that within quotes, not because I’m really emo. I guess I’m just subsconsciously stressed about a multitude of stuff. Old readers would be familiar with this state of mind. I now recall, and understand that by writing my thoughts out in prose, and yet never explicitly explaining what I’m talking about is my way of relieving stress. I just forgot all about it. It’s really therapeutic to me. It’s my way of having a conversation with myself, straightening out my thoughts. And then somehow it sets me going again. Most of my poetry, prose… I try to compose tunes to go along with it. Someday, one day perhaps, you just might get to hear my song. Click the link below for the rest of the post.

Twas not another ordinary day

And boy, had he words to say

But they would not be let out

And no, no, he was not one to shout..

 

Twas bright and sunny

But it wasn’t funny

That it seemed oh so familiar

and it felt so peculiar

 

Stood on the court

chasing down the orange mass

threaded it through the netted twine

and if it rains, that’ll be the sign that I should stop

 

Stop.

 

But if I pressed the stop button

who acts out the play

y’know it’s not a show

ain’t a pantomime 

 

I’m not a sleuth

And I read no minds

But the tears flowed through a sluice

Oh, man, you sure do cry like a boy

 

Who said grown men don’t cry

can’t cry

Who said that we can’t feel

Precisely because I feel

 

I felt like a boy

I thought it was back

to the days where no one saw

or heard, me

 

Then whispered a voice

Rejoice, Rejoice

I, see you

I, hear you

 

It was my Father

He held my tiny hand

I was a little boy all over again 

"I will never let you go, my child"

 

And then it dawned upon

this man-child 

of what had been going on for a while

that he was the one in the wrong

 

For he had chosen not to see

feigned his deafness 

to the Father’s grace and mercy

and the whisper of His voice

 

Oh it’s not about me

and the things I thought I could see

but the One who watches over me

It’s all about you, Lord. 

 

I don’t want this tape to stop

rewind

play

stop

rewind

play 

 

Coz’ life ain’t a tape

not a show & tell 

and no, it’s not a play

I don’t want to play

 

Anymore games with You, Lord

I want to be the man

You want me to be

Oh Lord, set me free 

 

That I’ll be free to live

for You

That I’ll be freed to live for

You alone. 

 

Hmm, I guess it needs a title. er…  "Don’t want to play anymore games". That’s the tentative title.

 

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