You know, you hear, you touch…
There isn’t much to say, there isn’t much to do..
We are the complication, the lifeless comma on a hospital bed, waiting for the sweet taste of an endless period..
Those calendars hanging on our bedroom walls are phony
And the alarm clock never seemed to wake us up on time
But we always find ourselves hand in hand, racing through the universe, skipping the beat of our heart pulse..
Finding ways to get out this absurdity, living our life the way we want it to be
We are not magicians, nor God
We are the specks that caught in the middle of the traffic life
No one notice us or respect us as much as we notice and respect each other’s!
We always depart, never arrive – as if we are living on the terminal waiting for our lives to get going
We are always body to body, soul to soul, heart to heart, mind to mind
We stroke as hard as we talk, we dream as high as we feel
Always hand in hand, step by step – trying to balanced each other’s weigh
Trying to soften our staccato rythm…
Only God knows when this going to end,
This game we are in, we need a third person’s point of view to clear our sight and bathe our polluted mind..
Only God knows when this going to start,
We are the complication, the lifeless comma on a hospital bed, waiting for the sweet taste of an endless beginning..
Jakarta, August 13th 2009
-Deisha T
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