Determination (dedicated to Pioneers who have ever gone through the Night Study Programme)

Night falls. The dark blanket
smothers all as it has always done,
sparking the lights of the institution,
mirror of the spirit of the inhabitants.

Sacrifice is the key. For they are
giving up what remains of their youth,
their stakes in a high-risk investment,
for the key to the next phase of their lives.

True determination. This is the
silent srpint to the finishing line,
Hurdle after hurdle tripped over or cleared,
the biggest ones loom ahead yet.

The end draws near. Battling
exhaustion and depression and despair,
they charge ahead together,
for the light at the end of the tunnel.

Literature Essay (Revised Edition)

Hours, a total of three.
Papers, a stack of many pieces.
Pens, enough to last.
And four questions.

All i should need, they say.

I try, to understand,
Bronte's individualistic flood.
And maybe Stoker's
Obsession with blood.
I try, to decipher,
Incomprehensible Roy.
And the double entendres
with which Carter toys.
I try, to catch upon,
Donne's sexual undertones.
And Boey's many concerns,
About existence, religion, home.

Time's up.

Others have put their thoughts
In words.
When will it be my turn?

Literature Essay (Original Edition)

Hours, two and a half.
Papers, five or six pieces.
Pens, one or two.
And three questions.

All i should need, they say.

I try, to decipher,
Shakespeare's way with words.
And maybe Orwell's
Political works.
I try, to understand,
Incomprehensible Roy,
And delve into nuances
with which the Gothic toy.
I try, to recognize
Donne's sexual undertones,
And how many others, writing in flowers,
Tell their stories in their tomes.

Time's up.

Other have put their thoughts
In words.
Now it's my turn.

Sunshine (dedicated to "AL" of BPGHS and "D" of PJC)

Time was
When you came into my life
And set it alight
With the brilliance of your being.
It was you who pulled me out of the darkness,
Lit up the world where i hid in misery,
Showed me how to see the brighter side of life,
And taught me how it is to be loved and to love.

Then you were gone
And with you the sunshine faded out
Thus leaving me with the memories
Of what it was like to be happy.
Now you do not recognize me,
While I see you doing what you always did,
Spreading your sunshine to those in need,
And slowly disappearing from my sight.

Years from now,
I will rediscover this record,
Remember you with the words I read,
And weep afresh for my loss.

Self-Questioning

I could sit down at a table
With reams of paper and some pens,
And proceed to compose
The poetry of my life.
I could pine for loves lost,
Lament the state of the world,
Make predictions of my future,
And outline the philosophy of my life.

But what is the point?
Why should i even try
When it is unlikely I will ever match
The heights of the great poets?
How can I compare my words to Shakespeare's
Or talk about life like Keats
Extol life's passions like Donne,
Or even hope to be remembered?

Yet......

I will write.
For knowledge may be gained
By insights made by others,
But true wisdom can only be achieved
By insights one makes himself.

Innocence Revisited

She makes you mad
with her aloof attitude
that makes you feel like
you're talking to a wall,
And does things that
you don't approve of
just because
she wanted to,
Her boyfriends look questionable
and it scares you a lot
because you don't know
what he's doing to your baby,
She is all grown up now
and it breaks your heart
for no longer do you recognize her
as your flesh and blood.

Then she sleeps.

And in sleep, time turns back.
Suddenly the years fall away,
and the wildness that hurts you
is no more.
All that is left is the angel you once knew.
That innocent, pretty face,
lost in dreams of a beautiful tomorrow
and untroubled by life.

Then she wakes.
And you sigh.