It Is In The Morning Your Memories Play Their Best Trick

That is him. Is he the one?

Yes, he's my brother.

He spends most of his time in this section, reading all the poems he can find.

He loves poetry.


"Stop it, I'm driving."

"So what? It's not that I'm interrupting you or your vision."

"Yes, but I need to concentrate. We're already late. And I don't even know the way. I need to focus on the signboards."

"But I'm bored. I need to read something, so I read your poems. I love reading your poems."

"Thank you, I appreciate that. But can you read it silently?"

"Don't want! Now listen to this..."

And this is a story about a boy with a vision
With a dream and another dream

As he stares blankly at the walls

His heart beats endlessly

He thinks of everyone

Who has succeeded and who has not

He looks at the images portrayed from the back of his mind

And they speak a language he doesn't understand

He tries and tries to say it
"Why can't everything be so easy?"

"Why can't everything be so easy? For instance, driving at the moment. Please, I can't focus when I have to look at the signboards and listen to your reading at the same time."

"What does this part mean, darling?"

"Not now... not now. Oh... God, great. Now it's raining cats and dogs."

"Wow... how romantic! Reading poems to you with the rain as soundtrack!"

"You got one twisted sense of romance, sweetheart."

"Come on, come on! Let's continue!"

The lost memories barge in every day
When the sun goes up, when his eyes open
The ongoing mission doesn't seem to want to end

The dark days don't seem to want to go
When he sees her he sees everything

When she goes away the dimmest light seems blinding

"Are you talking about his dream or his love for the girl? Is the girl me? Wait, the boy is you!"

"What makes you think so? I created him as anybody."

"No, no, this boy has to be you. So that I can be the girl! Listen to this!"

She loves to smile a thousand times
She dreams of him the boy with a vision

With a dream and another dream

He loves to stay late and listen

To the pursuit of happiness she loves to imagine

Then the green hearts sing together

The song of rhythmic poetries

Dum da ba da, dum da ba da

"Aww... so sweet! Let's read the last stanza together!"

"Shush! I need to take this U-turn!"


Dum da ba da, he will be the academia
Dum da ba da, or maybe the best person in Asia
Dum da ba da, or he could be the president of Russia

Dum da ba da
, dum da ba da
Soulless iron skin meets warm rosy heart
So he sings a song like his love is an art

Dum da ba da, dum da ba da

I still can't find a suitable title for this poem.

You will get it sooner or later. Let's go home.

Should I name it "Dum Da Ba Da"?

That's a beautiful name. She would have loved it.

No! She would have not! She had always loved direct words. God, I should've listened to her. I shouldn't have rushed, shouldn't have taken that damned U-turn.

How often do you miss her?

Every second.

When do you miss her most?

In the morning, every day.

There you have it, your title.

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...

Think Before You Think.

Think Before You Think.


Books are just papers with some ink on them. They mean nothing. But they'll become something when there are people reading them.

Dramatic Durian

You cannot click the picture unless you're a movie lover.

Let's Get Whiteboard-ed!

You cannot click the picture unless you want to learn English.