He would sing all day.

He sang to the bees,

He sang to the cows.

He would sing in the bus,

And even in the class!

But one fine day…

Little Timmy met The Man.

The Man gave him a golden coin,

“These will buy you many toys!”

So Little Timmy looked for a job,

And started working non-stop.

Ever since that time,

Little Timmy stopped his chimes.

He would work in the day;

He wanted that shiny new car.

He would work in the night;

Now he wants that huge farm house.

But Timmy soon grew tired of his toys,

And decided to resume his joys.

But a drunkard knocked him over.

And so it says,

“Herein lies a great man of many toys.”

Afraid of the winds,
You chose not to spread those wings,
How then… would you win?

And this is, of course, not her...

Whether by accident or by chance,
I had your photos many a glance.
They’re really nice, I must say,
Especially that one of you in gray!

And when I was done with my rummage,
I thought I’d stop by by your profile page.
Oh boy was I impressed!
“She is different from the rest.”

As such I am here…
With your words you’ve had me lured.
I hope you find this “pretty cool”,
Won’t we be friends, Miss… Beautiful?

Too proud to share them,
He muffled his cries in dark,
Between two pillows.

Oh how foolish must you be
For you not to see?
What I’m trying to do with all your pennies!
If only you could see…
If only you could see…
This broken old Lenny.

Author’s Note: Ack, don’t like the end product too much!

Dare I say,
I feel I am better than they.
Well, most of them anyway!
Yet why is it I feel
Like an undiscovered gem?

Or are there more to these junk
Than I thought that I know not of?
The reasons why they are found…
And not I…?

Is your train as full as mine?
Are you watching these people who’ve sold their time?
Is your train as full as mine?
This is how it is like, every night at nine?

The Bed by Henri De Toulouse-Lautrec

She sleeps alone on that queen-sized bed,
No one knows who sleeps beside.
Did it once belong to a mate,
Or did she just likes how it’s wide?

She sleeps alone on that queen-sized bed,
No one knows what had happened to him.
Who was once the owner of this jade?
His name, his voice, his face no one seen.

She sleeps alone on that queen-sized bed,
With a bolster and her pillows.
She sleeps alone on that queen-sized bed,
Without a ring or a fellow.

Disclaimer: This poem is NOT the intended interpretation of the painting but merely an image that best suits what I have.

I took my milk and turned off the lights,
Wanted to leave and carry on with my night.
Alone in the darkness the dog gave a little whimper
That made me felt like I was a little evil keeper.

I stopped in my tracks, empathizing with its wails.
I thought about the dog: alone in the dark, alone in its jail.
Alone where the sun does not shine.
Alone where no one hears its whines.
And strangely I now recall a line that hounds,
“If a tree falls in the forest, and no one hears it, does it make a sound?”

I saw me
There was so much space
Many things could fill the place
A girl went past me
I told her to stay
And she kept her bay
I tried a boy
But he had already a toy
All I ever wanted was for them
To see my face
Remember my name,
Spend the days and
Ride the waves
But they were deaf
To my painful yearn
For companions
Still the sun sets and rises
Flower still blooms and withers
I’ll have to walk
Even if there’s no one
For me to talk
Or hold me not
Even if I see only
My own footprints
In my every dream