Dear LOVE,
Though it is late and you are probably lazy
to read my words,
which are probably crazy,
and boring and nasty,
but still...
This world is going crazy day after day,
which makes me wonder
"Why would you stay
in such a foolish way,
blinded by an illusion,
a tiny fusion
between joy and pleasure
and your own belief?"
And then again, with every year,
I hear your name,
your fame
gets celebrated in that special day...
"Why does it need a day?"
I ask full of surprise
hoping that someone
will realize all this nonsense that goes
around our lives
and flows
like a bloody river inside our minds.
Then you may say
"What are you talking about?
Don’t you like the day
when every boy and girl
gather together,
ignoring the weather,
to share their hopes and wishes
and swear to be happy forever?"
But then I shout
"Get out
of my mind, of my memory,
and never come back!"
Of course I lack
both support and confidence
that you will ever give up
and those who believe in LUCK
will ever betray you.
And don’t you dare
to act like you would care
about me,
saying "You are sad
because you are alone,
which makes you mad
and angry
on every boy and girl
that gather together,
ignoring the weather,
to smile forever" !
But your "forever" becomes a "never"
when the cruel time
cuts the link between joy and pleasure,
deleting your precious treasure
for good.
Then you may cry and scream
"Why did this happen?" ,
when the boy will throw you away
for money and fame,
while the girl will build you again,
counting on her belief
for the weakest relief
of your existence.
And so,
where is your purity and power
from every flower
and every kiss
that every boy and girl
were sharing together...
"Was it supposed to last forever?"
is my last question, though it is obvious
that nothing in this world,
no matter how grandiose
it may look,
lasts more than a book...
Read again and again,
at first it is beautiful, but then,
it gets boring.
And so will you, with your foolish games
that every boy and girl
are playing
and saying
"They will always be joyful !" ,
mostly in that day,
that special day of yours...
But it is painful
and you don’t care,
neither do I, as I prefer
to end my letter here,
in fear,
that you might even understand
my secret message within the lines,
hidden in sand
of words and rhymes...
Take care my friend
and care about what you are saying
and doing now
and in the end,
good bye.
Your old friend,
HATRED
