Saturday, June 15, 2013

Ode to my papa

Its been 24 years
When my tears turned to fears
I was 2 he left me fatherless
Passed time with essays and tests
Never was athletic
I have been left to fend alone ever since i was fifteen
Washing cars as a teen
I could have turned into a fiend
Instead i turned into the path of academics
Smoking literature with indians
Already 26 now
Skirts , flirts all done for a laugh now
Feeling so bitter
Maybe i should have learnt to smoke that weed
God bless for that burning bush
That kush
If it wasnt for my bronchitis
No homies to tell me how tight it is
Evil is what you make it
And i know my feelings in a disarray
Cold lonely and afraid

My therapist
My unborn babies
These succubus ladies
Wheres that exit door
Are my words too hardcore
See my blood spraying on the floor
Mayday mayday
On my 22nd birthday
I thought i saw izrael that monday
Visionary dreams
Late night asthmatic heaves
Loss of sleep
Et tu hyder?
tu quoque mortem

I will forget about this on the morrow
These Pains guilt and sorrow

Hyder Noor
Copyright ©2013

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