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Hermes Osnofa Poem
Why are you crying?
Has anyone died?
Or did someone hurt you?
I think both, right?
You cry angrily, punching your chest.
You try to remember the heart that you're still alive
Your face disfigures as the figures appear in your mind.
Tears will not let you get distracted by the sight of the
Ceiling above you.
As much as you dry your tears, it's all blurry.
And now The only thing you can see clearly is the past.
Is not it ironic?
To be such a forgettable man,
and at the same time be a man who has a great memory.
I know that you may remember every second of your life.
Your memory is excellent because your life was ordinary.
What kind of curse is this? You ask yourself.
How can a dead man still be haunted by his memories?
Feeling regret, shame, disgust, anger...
Feeling. but still dead.
I mean, you're dead, right?
Because to me, every night is a funeral
You lie down and decide to bury yourself in the past.
You cry the equivalent of twenty sad and drowned eyes
It is easier to accept that you are dead.
Makes more sense.
But deep down, you know the reason for your tears.
You know what despairs you every night.
The fact is that...
You are alive.
And that's what scares you so much.
Copyright © Hermes Osnofa | Year Posted 2019
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Hermes Osnofa Poem
Time goes by.
I get old,
bored,
and more pessimistic.
But I like the Time.
Of all who passed by me,
in this life.
Time was the only one that did not ignore me.
Time was the only one that took me seriously.
Time has been the only one that has always been with me.
I will miss seeing Time pass.
Copyright © Hermes Osnofa | Year Posted 2019
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Details |
Hermes Osnofa Poem
Since I saw the truth in bloom.
Since the man turn to dumb.
Since the flowers start to die.
I didn't have time to lie.
Come and go in even flow.
Now the man can back to home.
Where the flowers never grow.
And the liars burn inside.
Copyright © Hermes Osnofa | Year Posted 2019
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