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Literature Text
When I was just a child
About twenty years back
I never would have thought
I would turn out like that
Or indeed like this
If I speak in the present tense
I guess I’m tense in the present
If that makes any sense
When I was at the mercy
Of the medical profession
They told me I was suffering
With clinical depression
And tapestries woven this tight
Into such an infant mind
Would be difficult to unspool
Unthread and leave behind
When I was just a boy
Around ten or so years back
I fell into a deep hole
But it felt more like a trap
I couldn’t get out of there
In fact I’m stuck here still
And all anyone can do
Is to prescribe another pill
About twenty years back
I never would have thought
I would turn out like that
Or indeed like this
If I speak in the present tense
I guess I’m tense in the present
If that makes any sense
When I was at the mercy
Of the medical profession
They told me I was suffering
With clinical depression
And tapestries woven this tight
Into such an infant mind
Would be difficult to unspool
Unthread and leave behind
When I was just a boy
Around ten or so years back
I fell into a deep hole
But it felt more like a trap
I couldn’t get out of there
In fact I’m stuck here still
And all anyone can do
Is to prescribe another pill
Literature
These Tears Would Come:
These Tears Would Come:
If my tears could tell a story of two -
What would they have to say about you?
Of a boy who spent his whole life seeking
And a girl who found it in the arms of another…
Would they tell us of laughter? Beneath a starlit sky,
Or of harsh words exchanged on bitter nights.
Would they speak of moments, so beautifully captured;
To be enjoyed in memory, like a perfect wine.
Or perhaps they would tell us of an untampered truth:
Of the lonely nights spent longing, for an Eden lost.
Captivated, habituated, to this lonely habit of you;
For her alone, these tears would come.
-Chen Yuan Wen, 31st march 2013
Literature
Wish for Privacy
I live behind a locked door,
And no one has the key.
It has been years, maybe more
Since someone talked to me.
The solitude was nice at first,
The quiet let me think.
But soon it took a turn for worse
Now all I do is blink.
So be careful, my dear friends,
When you wish for privacy.
Count to 5 when patience bends
Or you'll end up just like me.
Literature
I Can't Devour You, Not Yet
I Can't Devour You, Not Yet:
I long to taste the sweetness of your flesh,
To roll your meat between my tongue and teeth.
So many times have I come - so close -
To taking that first bite from your neck.
Yet, there is something about you,
A scent perhaps or a sickly sap.
It turns bitter upon my tongue,
Poisoning it; I am left unable to eat...
Much like the caterpillar, covered in spines,
Each bite would spew only bitter venom -
Numbing my senses and dulling the mind;
It would leave me naught but a gormless wreck!
Even so, despite me knowing of the repugnant taste,
I am drawn toward you, like a moth to the flame.
May my wings crum
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Wow O.o what a talent