Judd Maude

I always count on them from one to three.

And range it from "one is enough" to "three is dangerous.

By the time it reaches to the "dangerous kind of lying."

Don't be surprised why I left without you knowing it.

Because I, wont ever tell why.

I'll just count on my own,

Then if it strikes, I leave like nothing ever happened

'cause it's me.

Tired and sick of playing games.

And write your words into a poetry.

To every rhythmn of your heart,

And the melody of your emotion you are feeling.

Let them understand and recognize you.

To every poem you are writing,

Allow them to open the book that once you gave.

Let them read it for you.

Feel their voices whispering in your ears.

By the sound that resonates within you,

You will savvy.

The way how the thunderstorm behaves through their hearts,

And the waves and all the lightning that strikes their mind.

Appreciate it and make your thoughts.

Write.

And when tears blot out your words,

Leave.

To every hopes of tomorrow

From all the nights of the days,

I've been broken down and desperate.

To every happiness behind the sadness,

Lips are just smiling.

Though my heart is already broken down and crying.

The world went so unfair.

To their funny moments are my hurt,

To every voices that I heard,

Are my name.

They have been so happy.

While I am all here struggling

With their rolling eyes,

My soul,

It dies.

In this world,

Tried so hard not to admit it

But can’t hide these things i feel.

As I close my eyes and lose myself in a daydream,

Your voice echoes in singing me a song.

The melody, its symphony,

I would believe.

You’re just here, beside me.

Where I surely loved to sleep,

After i kissed your lips.

In a daydream, you make me laugh.

You know you always make me laugh.

And it hurts, whether its a dream or not,

I have to accept the fact.

Beneath the billions of stars,

Behind those sweetest smile I’ve ever see,

are my sadness.

That your love isn’t belong to me,

And never will be given to me.

Acting simple.

But she never want to be called simple, in reality.

She wants to be different in the eyes of everybody.

She says she is simple, but acting so complicated.Complicated like the stars from the galaxy.

That I can't hardly draw. I can't hardly imagine how stars are placed, how stars shine and how stars die.

But they are perfect, like her, from my eyes she's the galaxy I am into.

It was so perfect like how the stars are aligned.

Like I would say she was the Cassiopeia in my galaxy, the Caph, the stained-hand.

She has the most beautiful smile that shines.

Like the stars that brightens when the daylight's gone, the moon, at the night sky, when eclipse.

Darling, I may fall to you like a shooting star, but I have to accept it, accept the fact that falling like a shooting star has nothing to do with you.

But just a tiny dust, that usually ignored.