I want to be a singer
It feels good to hear myself
But birds did not share even a “tweet” of voice
I want to be a dancer
I love to see myself grooving
But motion is against my passion
I want to be a director
I like to put my imaginations into reality rolling on
But dark chocolates taste a few nightmares
But I think life is just the way it is
It flicks, and only mystery can give a magical view of what life is
But what does I really love to do?
I love to be a writer
I want to write even a little none sense of my thoughts
Pure thoughts can reveal a little puzzle of life.
Now I’m thinking of you
Nothing comes to my mind now
But, I can only imagine and see you
It’s not that I’m bored
I just only remember you
Only you bound in my heart
There’s no way for me not to think of you
What I’m gonna do if it’s only you
I can just see you
Are you the same the way I like you?
I doubt that
I know you can’t see me anymore
You see no one but her
How I hope ‘her’ is my name
The first time you intentionally look me into my eyes
Was it a trap?
A trap for me to fell for you?
Well, around of applause for you
And until now I can’t seem to escape
What were your deceiving eyes done to me?
What was in you that until now,
I’m still holding on
Even if there’s none?