Entry 14: Last but not Least

14 weeks for this blog has passed. I somehow feel attached to my weekly posts, as if they are the sugar for Teh-o-ais. What is Teh-o-ais without sugar?!

Anyways, not wasting my last post of the semester, I'm gonna end it like how I started it; with a short poem.

Every ending,
Is a new beginning,
What is wrong,
With the world we're living?

When we have,
We reserve,
When we lack,
We love.

Give a man a bar of gold,
He invests even more gold,
Let him not know what is gold,
He invests love til' old.

But who am I to judge,
A worthless sinful man,
But all that God has done,
Has made me able to stand.

As far as I may know,
Nothing in this world I own,
For not myself I even own,
For I am God's alone.

This poem isn't really as good as the previous ones, but here you go ><

I might continue writing this blog, but might not be as often though.

Have an awesome week, guys :)

Til' then, again,
My heart will open,
Slightly explained,
For your perception.

-George Yau-

Entry 13: Does it matter?

Does it matter?

The things that we do?

What really matters?

Materials or you?

The sweat and blood,

Of scars and scorns.

Is it for love,

Or for those horns?

Can we see them?

Can we not?

The reason and purpose,

That most forgot.

Remember your route,

Don't ever stray.

For when you do,

Hurt others, you may.

From papers to metals,

And leathers to gold.

Are all these your cravings,

And treasure til' old?

Take the log out,

From the eyes of the wicked,

And nurture your wisdom,

With the mind you've been blessed,

Whenever you're weak,

And heavily burdened,

Remember the purpose,

From the wisdom you've learned.

Does it matter?

The things that we do?

You know what matters,

And the answer is you.

Til' then, again,
My heart will open,
Slightly explained,
For your perception.

-George Yau-

Entry 12: Bottle Heart

A heart is just like a bottle.
The owner decides what to fill it with.
Fill it with precious water, the bottle becomes valuable,
Whereas if the bottle is filled with trash, it belongs to the dumpster.

The things you hold dearest in your heart determines what you see in yourself,
Or even what others see.
Whenever you're depressed, ask yourself; Why?
When it's hard for you to make a decision, what do you fill your bottle heart with?
Does it satisfy your main purpose of life?
Is what you fill into the bottle is too much?
Can your bottle handle the weight, volume, chemicals?
If the substance filled in the bottle is not suitable, the bottle will be destroyed.
Just like how your heart will melt, scatter, dissolve, or vanish.

Only fill your bottle with what is suitable.
Only do what you are capable to do.
Because at the end of the day, you handle the scar of your own heart and no one else could help you with that.

Choose wisely and don't regret after your decision.

*This post is just a short break from poems xD*

-George Yau-

Entry 11: Words With Thorns

I may seem friendly,
I may seem not,
I may look happy,
But deep down, I'm not.

But to you, I might,
To others, might not,
Because to them,
I make hearts rot.

"I do not care,
I will not care."
I say I don't,
But actually, I care.

My life, my dreams,
My hope, my future,
Myself, my feelings,
My, my, all mine.

My selfishness, why can't you see?
From my head, down to my feet,
My eyes filled with my own,
My mouth maketh my throne.

All I've said, starting from top,
Maybe I am, maybe I'm not,
I'm not sure, I'm really not,
Because you guys are all I've got,

My intentions, always misunderstood,
Me being nice, it's always rude,
The words I speak, the ways I talk,
They've grown thorns and lots of roots.

I may change or I may not,
I will try hard with all I got,
I think with my brain, but heart not,
Forgive, while I try, the words I pour.

"I'm sorry" I cried,
For the difficult ride,
For word games we play,
From day to day.

Forgive me, do you?
For all you've been through,
Let me spend again,
A meal or two with you.

Til' then, again,
My heart will open,
Slightly explained,
For your perception.

-George Yau-

Entry 10: Silent Night

My man cave, I am in,
As I feel the swirling wind,
Over my head, under my clothes,
Inside my head, stories untold.

I yawn, I tear,
I coughed right here,
I love, I care,
Affection with fear.

It's hard, it's tough,
The rocky rough ground,
It's hard, it's tough,
The battle I found.

Her eyes, her thighs,
The lust in my eyes,
But be afraid, do not,
The control is mine,

My desires,
They make me tremble,
With disappointment,
They weren't like trouble.

My heart skipped,
When you're by my feet,
And the sound of your voice,
It's so much better than Royce'.

Til' then, again,
My heart will open,
Slightly explained,
For your perception.

-George Yau-