Cockroaches

Is it someone out there waiting
for me?
A cockroach would sing
Waiting for silence for
The sacredness of early
Morning
The footsteps are still
Sleeping holding pillow
Under the warmth of
A brown blanket
Hiding the mind which
Prehistoric sunshine
Would fire a
Bullet
Can we go out now?
Said them to their
Worried parents
To sip a tasty pool
To dig a tiny hole
Of a new promised
Lands that is written
Where everybody would
merrily greet
When a hidden
Happiness
Would finally meet
A shattered nightmare
From their little kid
So how does it feel to
Carry a box of
Uncertainties
In a forsaken ship to
Release the unnamed
Guilty from home
To the frightening
Vicinities?

On the wall there’s
Hanging silently a
Mute painting
In which a smile that
Remains is just another
Sorrow to break a glass
Of feeling
I don’t know how to spell
The hurt that yet to come
So how long do we have
To wait under this old
Cupboard until we’re ready
To finally jump?
A smell of fragrant camphor
Build a rusty smell of cage
So now is the time that
Our place is beneath
A green hedge
And only we can imagine
All the precious memories
When the earth is in
An ice age
It is a ticking sound of
A modern clock
It is a resting pose of
Listless white socks
It is a standing wooden
Door in a cold longing
For a knock
It is the heavy breath of
Dawn clinking the stainless
Lock
Our father thinks we now
Have to move out
It is now that we wouldn’t
Ever get caught
So go
So go
A rushing puny step
From our honored leader
Ends up in a noisy tap
Of a gigantic morning
Paper.