Month: January 2017

In our quest for happiness
Sometimes lies our road to bitterness
Not having the patience to make things work
We usually try to trek
Out of the little worries we seem to face
We keep changing until we become changed

Changing tires doesn’t guarantee the engine from aging
Running from the ring yet chasing a different fight
Fading while trying to please Mr and Mrs right
Not knowing how to move as bad as not having the discipline to wait.

Good turning bad, the bad turning worse
Trying to fit one keeps changing
A fairy tale love in the books
The reality doesn’t seem how it looks
Losing dignity to many in the quest to find a match
Of many waiting to take you as just a catch

Missing Mr and Mrs right when they come to stay
For the qualities to keep we have wasted in youthful play
The effort to change to good we don’t but only want to pray
Even Satan prayed but still hunted us for prey

To what we can contain we have taken beyond more
To what we can abstain we have not tried to do more
The beauty of relationship has become an eye sore
Living to mismatch for we have stretched beyond the limits

©Hamza Hajj Ayub

Down the stray lane
Kneeling down to pray
As the predator still waits for its prey
A time to rest and a time to take a test
Searching for a guide for am caught in the wild

A sunny day without a sunshine
Life gradually draining out life
Vilifying the best while glorifying the worst
For a life without options behest no cautions

Living in the memories of the old so I can live against the cold
I wait not for the winter to patch my clothes
The best of looks may be the worst of crooks
So the ugly things become beautiful
Not by cosmetic looks but by the books

Grow with the old for experience is not for sale
The night maybe long
But not a harbinger for good sleep
The day maybe short
But the tiredness lingers even in thoughts

What is rest for the hunted if the hunter never rest
As grey grows our days if we continue to live as preys
Ready is the student who awaits the teacher
For time well spent is a lesson well learnt
Our days may yet be colorful
Not until we paint the grey days

©Hamza Hajj Ayub

A picture on the sands of the sea
Of which many goals and hopes got washed along its shores
Punched in my basket were holes
Of which my water of faith couldn’t get to hold
A lost stranger in the colds
Couldn’t seem to know the direction to reach my goals

Growing up in the mines
Couldn’t hang my hopes on the lines
Finding it hard to fit
To be yelled and screamed at was my gift
The beautiful paint of insults
Only added salt to injury

Much to be done, much left undone
To travel back in time, or to move ahead of time
A puzzle solved many yet unsolved
Many a heroes yet only develop villains
A dilemma to choose or wait to be chosen

Hanging on the rope of my fool’s hope
As I wait for salvation boat at the airport
Enlightened by passion I dared to take action
Through the painful road that awaits a beautiful end
To break the chains of imaginary servitude I couldn’t wait for that hero
For in my quest to quench my thirst
I became the hero I didn’t get to know

©Hamza Hajj Ayub