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Literature Text
When I was just a child
About twenty years back
I never would have thought
I would turn out like that
Or indeed like this
If I speak in the present tense
I guess I’m tense in the present
If that makes any sense
When I was at the mercy
Of the medical profession
They told me I was suffering
With clinical depression
And tapestries woven this tight
Into such an infant mind
Would be difficult to unspool
Unthread and leave behind
When I was just a boy
Around ten or so years back
I fell into a deep hole
But it felt more like a trap
I couldn’t get out of there
In fact I’m stuck here still
And all anyone can do
Is to prescribe another pill
About twenty years back
I never would have thought
I would turn out like that
Or indeed like this
If I speak in the present tense
I guess I’m tense in the present
If that makes any sense
When I was at the mercy
Of the medical profession
They told me I was suffering
With clinical depression
And tapestries woven this tight
Into such an infant mind
Would be difficult to unspool
Unthread and leave behind
When I was just a boy
Around ten or so years back
I fell into a deep hole
But it felt more like a trap
I couldn’t get out of there
In fact I’m stuck here still
And all anyone can do
Is to prescribe another pill
Literature
These Tears Would Come:
These Tears Would Come:
If my tears could tell a story of two -
What would they have to say about you?
Of a boy who spent his whole life seeking
And a girl who found it in the arms of another…
Would they tell us of laughter? Beneath a starlit sky,
Or of harsh words exchanged on bitter nights.
Would they speak of moments, so beautifully captured;
To be enjoyed in memory, like a perfect wine.
Or perhaps they would tell us of an untampered truth:
Of the lonely nights spent longing, for an Eden lost.
Captivated, habituated, to this lonely habit of you;
For her alone, these tears would come.
-Chen Yuan Wen, 31st march 2013
Literature
Wish for Privacy
I live behind a locked door,
And no one has the key.
It has been years, maybe more
Since someone talked to me.
The solitude was nice at first,
The quiet let me think.
But soon it took a turn for worse—
Now all I do is blink.
So be careful, my dear friends,
When you wish for privacy.
Count to 5 when patience bends
Or you'll end up just like me.
Literature
Death Takes Two Sugars
Death knocked on the door
came inside without invitation
poured herself some tea
and asked for a story.
He laughed at all the right parts,
cried when I cried,
asked for more than she received
silently demanding.
It cried with me and laughed with me
sipping their tea and listening
she wondered what I didn’t do
then told me how idiotic I was.
He told me about the children
I could have had but didn’t
and the falls that lifted me up
with the loss of others.
The story of how I almost killed a girl
when she ran into the street
scared her to run into the arms of her father
and never ran into the street again.
The tale of the man who
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Wow O.o what a talent