Tonight, in Seattle, there is going to be a strong wind plucking these orange leaves from the branches and scattering them to the ground. Wet rain will soak the pavement. It may some comforting, but I feel so selfish when I know there are homeless people getting cold, huddling each other for warmth. I wish the world is a kinder place. But I guess life goes through the motion. Life is never fair, it’s just there. Eventually all things shall come to an end and then reborn again.
There is something delightful about flowers.
They are full of beauty and wonder.
I wonder why she gave me flowers.
Is it for the dead?
Is it to console me that there is
I guess in my empty world–
inside my apartment
on the kitchen table–
a friend tells me it’s all right.
I guess I am all right.
Flowers are full of life and soul.
The clouds are rolling in grey.
Teardrops are on its way.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
I can’t hold these tears anymore.
Everyone in my family is dying.
The comedian is wearing a smile,
but behind the smile is a sad man.
He brings laughter to strangers,
but brings tears to his lovers.
When the laughter is gone,
his existence is reduced to a corpse.
Nothing I feel seems to be real.
City buildings are in a hazy dream.
I feel the heart beat of the ambulance
getting louder and louder
to rescue my broken mind.