Friday, December 3, 2010


Two friends, Layla and Shyla
Talking, laughing, website designs
Drinks, parties, sweets, laptop and then

Layla asked Shyla
So, what about him?
Shyla said, I let him go
Layla asked, why?

Shyla with a twinkle in her eye...

I planted the flowers they were pretty but not enough
The flowers next door were gorgeous

Everyday I walked up the hill, barefoot
To be with my beloved, in my brokeness
When I got tired, I tried to hold his hand so I will not fall
Ahhh...but I forget, he is already up the hill, looking down at me
One day, I fell while walking up the hill
I started to crawl, I became hungry and thirsty
Perhaps my beloved would come to get me
I crawled till my palms bled and my knees bruised
My beloved did not come

In my brokeness, I cannot cage a bird that wants to fly
In my brokeness, I still want to hear the bird sing
If not near, from afar
At least I can still dance when I hear the music

I am the ballerina who bows out gracefully after the dance...
So tell me, did I do my turns right?
How was my foot work?
Will you clap for me?

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