Fresh to death. These kids are children and THEY have a death wish. #Poetry is my drug, THIS poem over Propofol!
Shooting star. These would have been MJ’s last words: BABY. . .
Baby, we will [not] be alone, I have poetry…
and its epiphany is now a part of me.
As one of the reasons, you can’t leave us alone…
[You’re departing from us by leaving me…]
Fairness’s about sharing each other equally.
For people come and go,
go where they come from and that is just lovely.
You are my love and the beats of my heart;
that is why I call you Baby.
Baby: you are the epicenter of a dream come true and its harmony.
I never thought of ever reaching this far; I want you to marry me.
© Christian D. Koumtog
This is 2014