The chain was pretty tight,
It slither along creating harmony with blue veins.
Behind the metals of bars,
I was held a ransom of my own making.
I forgot my name whenever I'm on the rooftop.
I look pretty friendly with the blue sky,
The sun and clouds kissed my ashes face,
I think they've forgotten to look beyond the cloud.
It's stifling when the court stared
After all it's my own making
For building the metal of bars
In the first place.
I used to learn the substance that swirl in my stomach
I got an A in chemistry and my professor had eyes on my potential and my imperfect veins,
Then they avert their eyes on the thesis I wrote, saying, this is all I can do.
I guess the moment of truth is that I'll always bleed first to see if I'm one with stars
If I am as dead as the twinkling constellation.
The substance, it's pure glitter.
Itchy and sparkling.
It filled my veins and your eyes.
So when you look at me through your lenses
It seems that I've always been this small and common.
It was my crime. My jurisdiction.
-a.
ANDA SEDANG MEMBACA
F R A G I L E
PoetryFragile ['fradʒʌɪl] •(of a person) not strong or sturdy; delicate and vulnerable. -Prose, Poetry, Poem & Short Story. _______________________________ "Ini lirik jiwa nyanyi Tulisan aku suka sembunyi Kerana mereka tak faham apa yang mereka nyan...
